/ 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 
Gift  of 

Professor  Robert  D.  Pepper 


THE 


VISITOR  OF   THE  POOR; 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH 


THE    BARON    DEGERANDO, 


A   LADY   OF   BOSTON. 


AN    INTRODUCTION, 


JOSEPH     TUCKERMAN. 


BOSTON: 

HILLIARD,    GRAY,     LITTLE,     AND    WILKINS. 

1832. 


Entered  according  to  the  act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1832, 

by  Hilliard,  Gray,  and  Co., 

in  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts, 


CAMBRIDGE: 
E.     W.     METCALF    AND     CO. 


INTRODUCTION. 


I  have  been  requested  by  the  translator  of  this 
little  book,  to  give  her  an  Introduction,  or  Preface 
to  it.  I  very  readily  accede  to  this  wish  of  my 
friend  ;  and  I  shall  be  glad,  and  grateful,  if  my  rec- 
ommendation of  the  work  will  exert  any  influence  in 
attracting  attention  to  it.  I  have  no  hope,  indeed, 
of  being  useful  in  this  cause,  beyond  a  very  small 
circle.  But  as  I  am  known  in  the  city  in  which  I 
live,  as  a  Minister  of  the  Poor,  and  as  I  have  been 
very  favorably  regarded  here  in  other  efforts  I  have 
made  to  lead  public  attention  to  the  means  of  pre- 
venting and  of  remedying  poverty  and  crime,  I  will 
trust  that  I  may,  without  further  apology,  say  to  those 
who  have  read,  and  have  kindly  received  my  Reports, 
that  the  work  which  is  here  offered  for  public  appro- 
bation is  worthy  of  the  interest  and  patronage  which 
it  solicits.  Its  author  knew  the  poor,  not  merely  as 
they  are  seen  in  the  streets,  nor  merely  as  they  are 
represented  in  books,  or  as  they  appear  to  the  casu- 
al observer  in  Aims-Houses;  but  by  personal,  free, 
and  long-continued  intercourse  with  them  in  their 
habitations.  He  was  therefore  qualified  to  write  of 
the  poor,  as  others,  who  have  little  or  no  personal  ac- 
quaintance with  them,  cannot.  It  will  therefore  be 
perceived,  I   think,  that  the  details  and  the  senti- 


IV  INTRODUCTION. 

ments  of  Degerando  are  neither  the  fictions  of  a 
dreamer,  nor  the  speculations  of  a  theorist;  that 
they  bear  upon  their  front  the  lines  of  a  character, 
which  truth  only  could  have  imparted  to  them.  It  is 
but  a  part  of  the  original  work  which  is  here  publish- 
ed. But  this  little  book,  I  believe,  contains  all  of  the 
original  which  would  be  generally  interesting  to 
American  readers.  The  translation,  too,  it  may  be 
observed,  is  very  free  ;  and  this,  it  is  confidently 
thought,  will  not  be  considered  a  fault.  I  am  not 
willing  to  doubt  whether  the  book  will  obtain  a  good 
sale,  or  whether  it  will  be  extensively  read  among  us. 
The  name  of  Degerando  has  been  made  familiar  to 
many  here  by  his  treatise  on  Self-Education,  and  it 
has  a  high  place  in  the  respect  and  regard  of  our 
reading  community.  And,  should  this  work  be  read, 
it  can  hardly  fail  to  do  something  for  the  great  ob- 
ject it  proposes,  —  a  more  extended  Christian  union 
of  the  rich  with  the  poor,  with  a  view  to  a  greater  ex- 
tension of  human  virtue  and  happiness. 

The  aim  of  this  little  volume  is  single  and  simple. 
But  its  object  is  one  of  the  highest  importance.  Its 
design  is  to  awaken,  and  give  excitement  to  a  sense 
of  human  relations,  wherever  sensibility  on  this  great 
subject  is  sluggish  and  inactive  ;  and  wisely  direct 
it,  where  it  is  either  wasting  its  power  in  compara- 
tively useless  efforts,  or  is  perhaps  occasioning  evil 
by  the  very  means  by  which  it  intends,  and  hopes 
for  good.  For  this  end,  it  proposes  to  make  the 
great  classes  of  the  rich  and  the  poor,  of  the  strong 
and  the  feeble,  of  the  wise  and  the  unwise,  and  of 
the  virtuous  and  the  vicious  known  to  each  other.  It 
proposes  to  bring  these  classes  together,  not  by  con- 


INTRODUCTION.  V 

founding  the  distinctions  between  them,  but  by  mak- 
ing the  virtuous,  and  wise,  and  strong,  and  prosper- 
ed feel,  that  by  communicating  of  what  they  have  re- 
ceived, and  by    acting   as  the  instruments  of  God's 
goodness  towards  those  from  whom  he  has  made  them 
to  differ,  they  are  at  once  accomplishing  the  purpos- 
es for  which  he  instituted  the  diversities    which  we 
see  of  human    condition;  and    are  most   effectually 
promoting  their    own,  by    advancing  the  virtue  and 
happiness  of  others.     Its  aim  is  to  extend  virtue,  and 
through    virtue    to    extend    happiness,    by    the  most 
simple  and  legitimate    of  all   means,  the  exercise  of 
virtue.     It    seeks  the  redemption  of  the   victims  of 
poverty  and  vice,  by  bringing  those    who  have    the 
means  of  redeeming  them  to  a  knowledge  of  the  ex- 
posed and  wretched  condition  of  their  fellow  beings, 
and  thus   to  the  exertions  which   are   demanded  for 
their  redemption.    In  this  benevolent  enterprise,  it  ad- 
dresses the  sympathies,   not  only  of  the  rich,  but  of 
all  who  are  not  poor.     It  invites,  and  it  solicits  those 
into  whose   hands   it  may  fall,  and    who    have  any 
means  of  alleviating  human  want  and  suffering,  to  be 
visitors  of  the  poor.     The  physical  and  temporal   re- 
lief of  the   poor  is  here   sought,  principally    through 
an  amelioration  of  their  moral  condition  ;  and  much 
is  done  to  give  distinctness  to  the  proper  objefets  of 
charitable  efforts,  and  to  the  principles  by   which    a 
wise    charity    should    be    directed,    and    regulated. 
Here  are  statements,  the  correctness  of  which,  it  is 
believed,  will  not  be  doubted,  —  for  I  am  quite  sure 
that  they  are  not  exaggerations  of  actual  distress,  or 
even  of  vice  or   virtue  to  be  found    among  our  own 
poor,  —  and  which,  if  admitted  to  be  true,  can  hardly 
a* 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

fail  to  call  forth  a  very  active  sympathy  with  our 
similarly  exposed,  and  suffering  fellow  beings.  Here, 
too,  are  the  reasonings  of  a  mind  which  was  as  calm, 
as  cautious,  asdiscriminating  and  judicious,  as  it  was 
zealous  and  philanthropic.  And  here  are  appeals, 
the  most  simple,  and  natural,  and  touching,  which  can 
be  addressed  to  the  human  heart.  I  feel  indeed  no 
small  degree  of  diffidence  in  uniting  my  name,  and 
my  voice,  with  those  of  this  distinguished  friend  of 
humanity.  But  he  would  not  forbid,  and  will  not 
you  allow  me,  reader,  to  join  with  him  in  the  solici- 
tation, if  God  have  given  you  the  means,  not  to  wait 
for,  but  to  seek,  and  if  need  be  to  make,  opportuni- 
ties of  doing  something  to  supply  the  pressing  neces- 
sities of  those,  who  cannot  make  this  provision  for 
themselves  ;  something  for  the  consolation  of  those 
distressed  ones,  who  are  often  suffering  without  the 
solace  of  a  human  comforter  ;  something  for  the  suc- 
cour of  those  tempted  ones,  whose  greatest  exposure 
is  in  a  want  of  the  means  of  living  honestly,  and  of 
a  friend  to  aid,  to  advise,  to  encourage,  and  to  guide 
them  ;  and  something  for  those,  who,  having  by  want 
and  discouragement  been  led  into  sin,  have  not  yet 
lost  all  their  dispositions  to  virtue,  or  all  their  con- 
victions of  duty  ;  and  who  may  therefore  be  brought 
back,  and  saved,  by  no  means  so  effectually,  as  by 
the  notice,  and  kind  regard,  and  Christian  offices,  of 
the  lovers  of  virtue.  Let  us  extend  our  aid,  as  we 
may,  to  the  poor,  to  the  ignorant,  to  the  fallen,  and 
even  to  the  debased,  when  that  aid  is  most  imperi- 
ously demanded,  and  they  will  believe  in  the  reality  of 
virtue,  as  no  mere  words  would  bring  them  to  believe 
in  it,  when  they  have  been  made  to  feel  its  power, 


INTRODUCTION.  Vll 

by  the  very  exercises  of  it,  of  which  they  have  them- 
selves been  the  objects.  The  truth  is,  —  and  it  will 
be  worse  than  in  vain  to  overlook  or  disregard  it,  — 
that  by  nothing  short  of  this  sympathy  with  the  poor 
and  suffering,  this  care  for  them,  and  this  kindness 
towards  them,  can  we  meet  the  claims  of  our  religion 
upon  us,  as  stewards  of  God,  and  believers  in  the 
gospel  of  his  Son.  And  it  is  not  less  certain,  that  by 
nothing  short  of  a  recognition  of  our  relation  and  du- 
ty to  each  other,  as  children  of  one  Father,  may  we 
most  effectually  promote  even  the  best  immediate  in- 
terests of  society,  as  far  as  these  interests  are  con- 
cerned either  in  the  remedy,  or  the  prevention,  of 
poverty  and  crime. 

But  we  must  anticipate  difficulties  in  this  work, 
and  objections  to  it.  All,  it  may  be  said,  have  nei- 
ther leisure  for  it,  nor  are  qualified  for  its  duties. 
If,  then,  the  service  should  be  extensively,  and  much 
more  if  it  should  generally  be  assumed,  by  those  who 
have  any  thing  to  give  to  the  poor,  a  far  greater 
amount  of  want  would  be  created,  than  would  be 
relieved  by  it ;  and  it  might  consequently  minister 
even  to  the  increase  of  depravity  and  crime.  These 
are  difficulties  which  demand  serious  consideration, 
for  in  part  at  least  they  have  strong  facts  to  support 
them.  I  will  therefore  begin  with  concessions, 
which  will  do  something  to  prepare  the  way  for  the 
questions,  '  Have  you  not,  reader,  sufficient  leisure  for 
this  service?  And,  are  you  indeed  not  qualified,  or 
might  you  not  qualify  yourself,  for  it  ?  ' 

First,  then,  let  us  look  at  the  plea,  'I  have  not  leis- 
ure to  be  a  visitor  of  the  poor.'  Is  this  true?  I  do  not 
say  that  it  is  not ;  and  I  admit  that  the  service   has 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

no  claim   upon  you,  if  you  have  no  time   which  you 
can  spare  for  it ;  for  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a 
conflict,  or  even  an  interference  of  duties.     If  it  be 
your  duty,  in  any  hour  of  life,  to  be  in  one  place,  and 
engaged  in  one  work,  it  cannot  be   your  duty  at  the 
same  time  to   be    in    another    place,  and  at  another 
work.     This  is  a  very  important  elementary  princi- 
ple, the  establishment  of  which  by  every  individual  in 
his  own  mind  would  add  immeasurably  to  the  order, 
and  virtue,  and  happiness  of  life.     There  may  be,  and 
often  is,  an  interference,  and  even  a  strong  conflict, 
of  inclinations,  and  inducements,  and  immediate  inter- 
ests, which  are  sometimes  most  unhappily   mistaken 
for  a  conflict  of  duties.     But  I  grant  to  you,  that  if  your 
time  be  actually  filled   by  duties  which  forbid  you  to 
enter  upon  this  service,  you  are  not  only  right  in  de- 
clining   it,  but  you    would   do  wrong  if  you  should 
engage  in  it.     With  this  concession   in  view,  may  I 
ask  your    attention   to  the  inquiries,  *  How  much  of 
your  time  will  be  demanded,  even  for  very  consider- 
able usefulness  in  this  office?  '    And,  '  have  you  not, 
in  truth,  any  leisure  which  you  might  give  to  it  1 ' 

Again:  It  is  freely  admitted  that  you  may  not  be 
qualified  for  this  work,  even  ifyou  shall  have  leisure 
for  it.  You  may  be  too  credulous,  or  too  skeptical. 
You  may  not  be  sufficiently  alive  to  a  sense  of  the 
wants  and  sufferings  of  others,  or  you  may  have  an 
excessive,  or  even  a  diseased  sensibility,  which  you 
cannot  control.  You  may  be  too  impatient,  irritable, 
and  harsh  in  your  judgments  of  others  ;  or,  too  easy 
to  be  overcome  by  their  appeals,  even  against  your 
better  judgment.  But  the  most  deficient  in  qualifi- 
cations for    this    office    are  not  always  those,  who, 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

when  first  called  to  it,  feel  most  distrustful  of  their 
ability  for  its  duties.  Nay,  it  is  not  unfrequently  the 
case,  that  they  who  are  the  most  ready  to  engage  in 
it,  soon  show  themselves  to  be  the  least  fitted  for  it. 
There  is  indeed  wanted  for  this  service,  not  only  a 
heart  to  sympathize  with  the  poor,  the  feeble,  the 
sick,  the  widow  and  the  orphan,  the  tempted  and 
the  vicious.  To  do  important,  and  above  all,  to  do 
permanent  good  to  these  classes  of  sufferers,  we 
must  distinctly  understand  in  what  this  good  consists, 
and  what  are  the  means  by  which  it  may  most  effec- 
tually be  obtained.  We  must  possess,  and,  if  we  have 
it  not,  we  must  acquire,  a  knowledge  of  the  true 
condition,  and  character,  of  those  for  whom  our  offi- 
ces of  benevolence  are  required.  We  must  there- 
fore carry  into  the  work  a  teachable  mind,  and  a 
mind  as  discriminating  and  judicious,  as  it  is  kindly 
disposed  ;  a  mind  quick  to  discern  the  indications 
both  of  good  and  evil,  in  the  objects  of  its  charity, 
and  at  once  patient,  fair,  and  firm.  Nor  is  this  all. 
We  are  instruments  of  the  most  important  good  to 
our  suffering  fellow  creatures,  when  we  aid  them, 
as  far  as  shall  be  possible,  to  obtain  this  good  from 
resources  within  themselves  ;  —  by  assisting  them  to 
understand  the  true  causes  of  their  sufferings,  when 
these  sufferings  are  the  results  of  imprudence,  or 
extravagance,  or  idleness,  or  intemperance,  or  of 
other  moral  causes  which  are  within  their  own  con- 
trol ;  and  by  doing  what  we  may  to  call  forth,  to  di- 
rect, and  to  strengthen  their  capacities  of  self-sup- 
port, of  usefulness,  and  happiness.  Are  you  not  then, 
reader,  or  might  you  not,  by  a  little  practice,  be 
qualified  for  this  office  1     Do  not  hastily  decide  that 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

you  are  not.  Even  though  you  may  once,  or  twice, 
or  thrice  have  been  deceived,  and  imposed  upon,  by 
those  whom  you  would  have  relieved  and  blessed,  be 
not  discouraged.  You  may  yourself  have  something, 
and  even  much,  to  be  forgiven.  Besides,  experience 
in  this,  as  in  other  circumstances  of  embarrassment 
and  difficulty,  will  give  you  wisdom,  if  you  are 
really  desirous  to  obtain  it.  But  if  you  have  no 
disposition  to  be  taught  by  what  you  may  see,  and 
hear,  and  do,  in  this  intercourse,  I  do  not  advise  you 
to  be  a  visitor  of  the  poor. 

But  a  mere  enumeration  of  the  requisites  for  this 
office  may  discourage  from  it,  rather  than  excite  to 
it.  Let  us  then  take  an  example,  which  will  at  once 
throw  light  upon  the  question,  of  the  time  that  will 
be  required  for  a  very  benevolent  and  useful  minis- 
tration in  a  family ;  and,  by  describing  to  a  certain 
extent  the  service  to  be  performed  in  it,  will  do 
something  to  assist  any  one  in  forming  a  judgment, 
whether  he  is  qualified  for  this  service.  We  will 
follow  a  visitor  of  the  poor  through  his  cares  and 
interests  for  a  single  family.  It  is,  indeed,  a  mere 
supposititious  case,  as  respects  the  visitor,  but  real 
as  respects  the  condition  of  the  family.  It  is,  too, 
as  respects  the  family,  an  extreme  case.  What, 
then,  are  these  cares  ?  What  are  these  exertions  ? 
How  much  time  do  they  require?  And,  have  not 
you  the  qualifications  which  are  demanded  for  this 
service  'I 

Here,  then,  are  a  father  and  mother,  with  six 
children  between  the  ages  of  infancy  and  of  sixteen 
years.  The  father  is  idle  and  intemperate,  and  has 
passed  one  term  in   the  House  of  Correction.     The 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

mother  is  a  slattern,  inefficient  and  passionate,  and 
feels  little  concern  for  the  moral  well-being  of  her 
children.  The  eldest  child  is  a  son.  He  is  an 
idler,  and  is  on  the  verge  of  vagrancy  and  crime. 
The  second  child  is  a  daughter,  whose  uncombed 
hair,  and  dirty  skin,  and  filthy  and  tattered  attire, 
are  in  keeping  with  an  equally  neglected  mind 
and  heart.  She  is  rude,  boisterous,  and  disobedient ; 
now  a  beggar,  and  now  a  play-fellow  of  boys  as 
ignorant,  and  as  much  without  principle,  as  herself. 
Of  the  younger  children,  one  is  a  truant,  and  has 
already  begun  to  be  a  pilferer.  Another  is  kept  at 
home  because  he  needs  some  article  of  clothing,  or 
some  book,  without  which  he  cannot  go  to  school ; 
and  another  is  also  from  school,  because  his  broth- 
ers are  not  there.  Is  it  asked,  what  can  be  hoped 
for  in  respect  to  this  family  ?  What  can  be  done 
in  it?  Or,  where  is  the  man  who  will  attempt  the 
hopeless  task  of  its  reformation,  and  salvation  ? 

The  charge  of  this  family  is  undertaken  by  a 
visitor  of  the  poor,  who  has  himself  a  young  family, 
and  the  charge  of  a  business  which  ordinarily  re- 
quires the  attention  of  eight  or  nine  hours  a  day. 
The  little  beggar,  of  whom  I  have  spoken,  goes  to 
his  house  for  food.  He  sees  her,  and  inquires  her 
name,  and  the  residence  of  her  parents;  and  on  the 
same  evening  he  visits  this  family.  He  is  recog- 
nised by  the  beggar  girl,  who  had  informed  her 
mother  that  a  gentleman,  at  whose  house  she  had 
been,  had  said  that  he  would  call  and  see  her ;  and 
though  he  was  not  at  the  time  expected,  it  is  felt 
that  he  has  a  good  reason  to  give  for  his  appear- 
ance   among    them.      The    poor,    disordered,    and 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

dirty  bed  ;  the  few  chairs,  either  with  broken 
backs,  or  with  no  backs  ;  the  table,  with  four  or 
five  unwashed  plates  upon  it,  and  covered  with  the 
fragments  of  bread,  and  meat,  and  vegetables,  the 
contents  of  the  beggar's  basket,  which  had  appa- 
rently been  emptied  upon  the  board  from  the  want 
of  a  dish  to  receive  them ;  the  lamp,  from  the  want 
of  a  stand  to  support  it,  set  into  the  neck  of  a  bot- 
tle ;  the  mother,  in  her  person  and  her  dress  like 
the  objects  around  her ;  now  vociferating  for  silence 
among  her  lawless  offspring,  and  now  apologizing 
for  the  rudeness  of  one,  and  the  impassioned  cries 
of  another  ;  now  complaining  of  her  husband,  from 
whom  she  obtains  but  little  assistance,  and  now  of 
her  children,  whom  she  thinks  it  impossible  to  gov- 
ern ;  —  here,  it  is  acknowledged,  is  a  scene,  from 
which  any  other  than  a  mind  of  more  than  ordinary 
benevolence  would  have  turned  away  in  utter  dis- 
couragement, and  completely  self-justified  in  the 
determination  to  leave  these  unhappy  beings  to  their 
recklessness,  and  their  ruin.  And  would  you,  my 
kind  reader,  so  have  left  them? 

There  is,  however,  a  sympathy,  a  benevolence, 
which,  even  amidst  all  these  difficulties  would  not 
have  felt  discouragement.  We  assume,  too,  that  it 
was  not  for  the  satisfaction  of  an  idle  curiosity  that 
this  visitor  had  entered  this  family.  He  wished  to 
learn  the  actual  condition  of  those,  of  whom  the 
little  beggar  was  a  representative,  and  whether 
something  might  not  be  done  to  recover  this  little 
girl  from  beggary  and  debasement ;  and  having  seen 
at  least  as  much  misery,  and  more  vice  than  he  had 
anticipated,  he   left  them    with  his  own   heart   still 


INTRODUCTION.  Xlll 

more  deeply  interested  than  it  had  been  in  the  inqui- 
ry, whether,  from  this  wreck  of  humanity,  one  at 
least,  the  beggar  girl,  might  not  be  rescued,  and 
saved  1  Had  his  thought  been  extended  to  the  in- 
quiry, "  How  may  I  save  this  family  If  "  he,  also, 
might  have  been  disheartened.  But  his  purpose  is 
more  limited,  better  defined,  and  more  obviously 
practicable.  He  carries  home  this  purpose,  and  it 
engages  much  of  his  attention  ;  but  it  checks  him 
in  no  duty  towards  those  who  are  about  him  there. 
He  even  finds  time  to  relate  what  he  has  seen  to  his 
wife,  and  to  engage  her  interest  in  the  cause  which 
now  occupies  his  thoughts.  For  a  few  days,  he 
often  remembers  this  little  beggar;  and  soon  forms 
the  resolution,  if  her  parents  will  relinquish  her  to 
his  disposal,  that  he  will  find  a  family  in  the  coun- 
try to  whose  care  he  may  commit  her  ;  and  thus 
place  her  in  the  way,  if  she  shall  be  disposed  to 
avail  herself  of  it,  of  a  life  of  industry,  of  moral 
security,  and  of  usefulness.  Having  formed  this 
purpose,  his  mind  is  relieved,  and  strengthened  ; 
and  the  first  half  hour  which  he  can  spare  is  appro- 
priated to  a  second  visit. 

At  the  time  of  this  second  visit,  the  father  of 
the  family  is  at  home.  It  required  no  sagacity  to 
understand  what  were  his  habits,  and  character.  I 
have  said  that  he  was  intemperate  ;  and  the  remark 
of  his  wife  concerning  him,  that  he  did  little  or 
nothing  for  his  family,  was  true.  He  is  also  irrita- 
ble and  passionate.  The  visitor  soon  intimates  his 
wish  to  make  some  better  provision  for  their  eldest 
daughter.  The  father  is  offended  at  the  interfer- 
ence, and  imposes  no  restraint  on  the  expression  of 
b 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

his  resentment.  But  the  purpose  of  the  visitor  had 
not  been  suddenly  formed,  and  he  is  not  disposed 
suddenly  to  relinquish  it.  It  was  the  purpose  of  an 
act  of  most  disinterested  benevolence  which  had 
brought  him  there ;  of  a  benevolence,  therefore, 
which  will  not  soon  be  wearied,  and  will  endure 
much,  for  the  accomplishment  of  its  objects.  A 
pure  benevolence,  a  spirit  of  Divine  Love  in  the 
soul,  when  opposed  by  angry  and  unbridled  passions, 
is,  like  oil,  freely  poured  over  the  troubled  ocean, 
when  it  is  heaved  into  billows  by  a  storm.  Or,  when  it 
meets  with  silent  sullenness,  or  unfeeling  obduracy, 
it  is  like  the  rod  with  which  Moses  smote  the  rock, 
from  which  living  waters  gushed  out  to  refresh,  and 
give  new  life,  to  all  who  drank  of  them.  The  visi- 
tor meets  the  language  of  exasperated  passion  with 
the  language  of  a  deep  and  generous  kindness.  It 
was  in  vain  to  say  to  him,  that  "  his  friendship  was 
not  wanted ;  "  that  "  his  kind  offices  would  be  ac- 
cepted when  they  should  be  asked  for;"  and,  that 
"  no  man  should  take  his  child  from  him."  He  op- 
poses calmness  to  the  tumult  which  he  had  so  inno- 
cently excited.  He  admits  parental  rights,  and  rea- 
sons of  parental  interests.  He  addresses  himself  to 
the  deep  affections  of  a  parent's  heart.  And  he  has 
the  reward,  and  happiness,  of  leaving  the  father 
soothed  ;  convinced  of  the  rectitude  of  his  motives, 
and  the  kindness  of  his  purpose ;  and,  willing  that 
he  shall  come  again.  He  therefore  goes  again  ; 
and  is  a  visitor  in  this  family  once,  and  sometimes 
twice  in  a  week.  He  has  sometimes  visited  them  on 
Sunday.  But  he  has  not  at  any  time  passed  more 
than    half  an  hour,   and  sometimes   not  more  than 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  with  them.  The  parents 
have  been  fruitful  in  expedients  to  thwart  his  gene- 
rous design.  But  from  time  to  time  he  plainly  per- 
ceives that  he  has  gained  some  new  hold  upon  their 
confidence,  their  respect,  and  even  upon  their  affec- 
tions. How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  At  little  cost, 
he  has  provided  some  simple  articles  of  clothing  for 
the  little  girl  in  whose  rescue  he  has  felt  so  strong 
an  interest.  He  has  induced  her  to  clean  her  skin, 
to  comb  her  hair,  and  to  give  such  assistance  as  she 
can  to  her  mother.  The  room  in  which  they  live  is 
brought  into  a  better  state  of  order,  or  rather  into  a 
state  of  less  disorder,  than  was  that  in  which  he 
had  at  first  found  it.  The  little  beggar  girl  has  also 
been  to  his  house  two  or  three  times  a  week  for  the 
broken  food  of  the  family,  on  the  condition  that  she 
should  go  no  where  else  for  the  purpose  of  begging. 
After  an  intercourse  thus  maintained  for  three 
months,  all  the  obstacles  which  were  in  the  way  to 
his  object  have  been  overcome.  This  little  girl  is 
placed  in  a  family  in  the  country,  where  she  will 
have  an  opportunity  for  some  time  to  go  to  school ; 
where  she  will  be  under  a  wise  domestic  discipline, 
and  be  made  a  blessing,  instead  of  a  curse,  to  those 
with  whom  in  her  future  life  she  may  be  connected. 
Here,  then,  is  his  great  compensation  for  his  undis- 
couraged  perseverance.  He  has,  indeed,  the  grati- 
fication to  know  that  he  has  done  something  for  the 
general  comfort  and  improvement  of  this  family. 
But  he  has  probably  saved  this  little  girl  from  a  life 
of  dissoluteness,  and  degradation,  and  misery,  and 
premature  death.  It  is  not  necessary,  with  equal 
minuteness  of  detail,   to  follow   this  visitor  of  the 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

poor  through  a  year  of  his  care  for  this  family. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  by  continuing  his  visits  some- 
times once,  and  sometimes  twice  in  a  week,  and 
now  directing  his  interest  and  endeavours  to  one 
object,  and  now  to  another,  he  has  made  a  sailor  of 
the  eldest  boy,  and  has  given  him  into  the  charge  of 
a  master,  who  will  do  what  he  may  as  well  to  form 
him  to  habits  of  virtue,  as  to  make  him  a  good  sea- 
man. He  has  persuaded  the  parents  to  let  him  send 
the  truant  and  pilferer  to  the  House  of  Reformation  ; 
and  the  two  other  boys,  of  an  age  to  be  at  school, 
he  has  placed,  and  kept  there.  He  has  been  per- 
mitted, also,  to  reason  with  the  father  of  the  evils  of 
intemperance,  and  has  persuaded  him  to  read  tracts, 
which  he  has  given  him,  upon  this  subject.  The 
result  has  not  indeed  been  that  this  father  is  re- 
claimed from  intemperance.  But  he  sometimes 
abstains  from  ardent  spirits  for  a  week  or  two  ;  and 
generally,  when  he  uses  them,  drinks  far  less  than 
he  did  before.  And  in  consequence  of  drinking 
less,  he  is  more  disposed  to  work,  and  finds  more 
work  to  do.  He  therefore  makes  a  better  provision 
for  his  family.  His  wife  also  has  learned,  that,  by 
picking  hair  for  an  upholsterer,  with  the  aid  of  her 
children,  she  may  earn  fifteen  or  eighteen  cents  a 
day.  The  children  are  happier,  and  more  obedient. 
The  room  is  cleaner,  and  their  food  is  better.  Here, 
indeed,  is  not  a  very  high  order  of  virtue.  But  is 
not  the  good  which  has  been  conferred  on  this  fam- 
ily, quite  worth  what  it  has  cost?  Is  it  nothing,  or 
rather,  is  it  not  very  much,  that  there  has  not  been 
in  this  family,  as  there  otherwise  would  have  been, 
a  daily  decline  into  deeper  vice?     I   would  ask  you, 


INTRODUCTION.  XVii 

then,  reader,  if  you  have  not  as  much  leisure  at  your 
command,  as  was  found  by  the  visitor  of  this  poor 
family  ?  Or,  is  there  any  part  of  this  service,  which 
you  are  not  qualified  to  perform  ?  Do  you  not 
waste,  —  I  will  not  ask  if  you  do  not  misuse, —  in 
every  week,  at  least  as  much  time,  as  is  here  asked 
for  as  high  and  excellent  a  charity,  as  can  be  exer- 
cised by  man  ?  Will  you  not,  then,  if  you  think 
that  you  can  do  no  more,  be  the  visitor,  the  friend, 
and  if  it  may  be,  the  saviour,  of  one  family,  or  of  one 
child,  which,  without  a  friend  to  interpose  the  offices 
of  Christian  kindness,  will  be  exposed  to  the  gross- 
est vice,  and  the  deepest  wretchedness  ? 

But  there  are  hundreds  of  poor  families,  even  in 
our  small  city,  where  few  or  none  of  the  difficulties 
to  which  I  have  adverted  are  to  be  encountered. 
There  are  intemperate  men,  and  intemperate  wo- 
men, who  will  oppose  no  direct  resistance  to  your 
efforts  to  reclaim  and  save  them.  And,  if  you  can- 
not reclaim  them,  unspeakably  great  are  the  bless- 
ings you  may  extend  to  their  children.  There  are, 
too,  poor  families  in  which  there  is  no  intemperance. 
They  may  lack  judgment,  or  physical  strength,  or 
both  ;  and  may  not  only,  in  consequence,  be  exposed 
to  occasional  and  great  want  of  the  necessaries  of 
life,  but  greatly  unfitted  for  the  discharge  of  paren- 
tal duties.  There  are  cases,  also,  of  very  virtuous 
wives  and  mothers,  who  have  intemperate  husbands, 
from  whom  they  receive  no  aid  in  the  moral  charge 
of  their  families;  and  who  need  this,  and  would 
receive  it,  more  gratefully  than  any  other  aid.  There 
are  aged  men,  and  aged  women,  of  great  piety  and 
worth,  whose  only  earthly  resource  is  in  the  charity 
b* 


XV111  INTRODUCTION. 

of  others  ;  and  there  are  those,  who,  though  not  old, 
are  equally  infirm,  and  unable  to  provide  for  their 
own  support.  I  know  not,  indeed,  the  intercourse 
which  man  may  have  with  man,  in  which  better 
lessons  of  wisdom  are  to  be  learned,  than  in  free 
and  affectionate  communication  with  some  of  these 
families.  Would  you  be  taught  "  the  art  of  Divine 
Contentment?  "  Or,  would  you  be  made  more  sen- 
sible of  your  blessings,  and  more  grateful  for  them  ? 
Or,  would  you  have  a  doubt  resolved,  whether  relig- 
ion and  virtue  are  realities  ?  Or  would  you  be  in- 
structed how  to  use  prosperity  ;  or  how  to  meet,  to 
bear,  and  to  improve  under  affliction  ?  Go,  and  do 
the  good  which  you  may  in  one  or  more  of  these 
families.  Be  their  friend,  their  adviser,  their  com- 
forter ;  and  relieve  them,  if  so  it  must  be,  at  the 
expense  to  yourself  of  some  personal  gratification. 
Nor  can  I  fail  to  particularize  the  large  class  of 
widows,  who  often  need  assistance  in  the  govern- 
ment of  their  children ;  in  keeping  them  at  school, 
and  in  providing  places  for  them  when  they  are  at 
an  age  when  they  cannot  go  to  school.  I  might, 
indeed,  make  a  long  specification  of  services,  of 
great  importance  for  those  for  whom  they  are  to  be 
performed,  and  which  will  require  but  little  expense 
but  of  sympathy  and  time.  Nor  will  a  mind  at  once 
sympathizing  and  judicious  be  long  ignorant  of  the 
most  important  services  which  are  to  be  rendered  to 
a  poor  family,  nor  of  the  means  of  doing  them  good. 
The  first  object,  however,  let  it  not  be  forgotten,  is, 
to  obtain  their  confidence,  and,  if  possible,  their 
affection.  If  you  are  qualified  to  be  to  them  a 
teacher  of  the  principles  and  duties  of  religion,  hap- 


INTRODUCTION.  XIX 

py  will  it  be  both  for  them,  and  for  yourself.  But,  if 
you  are  not,  will  it  be  a  small  good,  if  you  can  grad- 
ually bring  cleanliness  into  a  disordered  and  filthy 
family ;  if  you  can  teach  parents  of  the  importance 
of  a  good  parental  example;  if  you  can  check  the 
waywardness  and  disobedience  of  children,  and  en- 
courage them  to  love  one  another,  and  to  obey  their 
parents ;  if  you  can  keep  children  at  school,  who 
would  otherwise  have  been  idlers  at  home,  and  per- 
haps vagrants  ;  if,  by  apprenticing  a  boy,  you  shall 
have  rescued  him  from  a  prison  ;  or,  by  placing  a 
girl  in  a'w.ell  ordered  family,  you  shall  have  saved  her 
from  probable  ruin  ?  Again,  then,  I  beseech  you,  be- 
fore you  shall  decide  that  you  are  not  qualified  for  any 
of  these  offices,  fairly  and  faithfully  to  make  trial  of 
one,  or  more  of  them.  If  you  shall  be  successful, 
you  will  need,  and  you  will  ask,  no  other  encourage- 
ment. The  reward,  to  him  who  gains  it,  is  immense. 
It  is  better  than  silver  or  gold.  It  will  make  you 
wish  to  be  immortal,  if  for  no  other  reason,  that  you 
may  be  a  minister  of  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God, 
as  long  as  there  shall  be  any  among  all  his  creatures, 
to  whom  the  ministry  of  his  mercy  may  be  extended. 
There  are  those,  indeed,  who  shrink  from  the 
thought  of  the  condition  of  the  children  of  want  and 
suffering.  The  office  of  a  visitor  of  the  poor  would 
seem  to  them  to  be  the  office  of  a  self-torturer.  They 
have  hardly  an  association  with  poverty,  but  of  squal- 
idness,  and  ignorance,  and  debasement,  and  vice. 
And  all  these,  it  is  admitted,  are  to  be  found  in  the 
abodes  of  many  of  the  poor.  But  should  even  these 
fellow  beings  be  left  in  unpitied,  and  unmitigated 
misery  ?    Who  has  made  thee,  thou  who  turnest  with 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

revolting  and  disgust  from  this  spectacle,  — who  has 
made  thee  to  differ  from  these  thy  fellow  mortals,  and 
fellow  immortals  1  And,  what  hast  thou,  which  thou 
hast  not  received  ?  And  why  did  God  bestow  on  thee 
thine  abundance,  but  that,  while  he  would  win  thee 
to  the  holy  exercises  of  gratitude  and  love  by  the 
multitude  of  his  blessings,  he  would  also  honor  thee 
as  an  instrument  of  his  compassion  and  goodness  to 
the  sufferers,  whom  he  has  enabled  thee  to  relieve  and 
bless  by  his  bounty  I  Away,  then,  with  this  morbid 
sensibility ;  this  false  delicacy  ;  and  despair  not  to 
find  a  remedy  of  the  evil,  even  in  that  which  appears 
to  thee  would  be  its  greatest  aggravation,  — a  friend- 
ly connexion,  and  a  familiar  intercourse,  with  some 
poor  and  distressed  family.  Let  this  family  be  select- 
ed for  you  by  another,  if  you  know  not  how  to  se- 
lect it  for  yourself.  Go  to  it,  that  you  may  learn 
how  you  may  be  useful  to  it.  Go,  and  carry  with 
you  a  garment  for  a  half-clad  child,  which  its  parent 
could  not  have  provided  for  it ;  and  gain  for  your- 
self an  interest  in  the  heart  of  this  child,  and  avail 
yourself  of  this  interest  to  strengthen  in  its  heart  the 
principles  of  piety  and  virtue.  Go,  and  do  what  you 
wisely  may  to  relieve  the  most  pressing  wants  of  this 
parent,  when  she  knows  not  where  to  look  for  relief. 
Go  to  her  when  she  shall  be  upon  the  bed  of  disease, 
and  alleviate  the  distresses  of  sickness  by  your  sym- 
pathy, your  counsels,  and  consolations  ;  and  by  sup- 
plying her  with  a  few  of  the  comforts  with  which 
you  would  yourself  be  surrounded,  if  you  were  on 
the  bed  of  sickness.  Go,  and  open  your  heart  to  a 
sensibility,  at  once  of  the  weakness,  and  wants,  and 
difficulties,  and    struggles   of  this  family ;  of  God's 


INTRODUCTION.  XXI 

goodnees  to  yourself;  and  of  the  unutterable  happi- 
ness of  relieving  distress,  and  of  calling  forth  in  the 
heart  a  sentiment  of  true  gratitude  to  God;  and  you 
will  find  that  poverty,  which,  it  may  be,  seemed  to 
you  like  Shakspeare's  "toad,  ugly  and  venomous," 
may  yet  "  wear  a  precious  jewel  in  its  head."  You 
will  find  that  you  may  learn  from  the  poor  quite  as 
much  asyou  can  teach  them ;  and  may  receive,  through 
them,  as  many,  and  as  important  benefits,  as  you  can 
confer  upon  them. 

But  the  difficulty  of  bringing  about  a  freer  inter- 
course between  the  educated  and  the  uneducated, 
the  rich  and  the  poor,  lies  far  deeper  in  the  soul.  It 
is,  in  truth,  no  other  than  a  prevailing  very  defective 
sense  of  the  true  nature  of  human  relations,  and  of 
the  infinite  value  of  the  higher  principles  and  capaci- 
ties of  our  common  nature.  Nor  is  even  this  all. 
We  do  not  estimate,  and  therefore  do  not  feel  aright, 
the  worth  of  our  common  nature,  and  are  not  prepar- 
ed to  feel  the  strong  interests  which  are  connected 
with  a  Christian  sense  of  our  relation  to  the  poor,  the 
ignorant,  the  suffering,  and  even  the  notoriously  vi- 
cious of  our  fellow  creatures,  principally,  because  we 
satisfy  ourselves  with  so  erroneous,  so  poor  and  un- 
just a  sense  of  the  true  character  of  our  own  nature. 
Let  me  say  too,  that  we  are  made  unjust  in  our 
estimation  of  our  own  nature,  alike  by  the  proud  and 
vain,  and  by  the  mean  conceptions,  which  we  form 
and  indulge  of  it;  and  I  know  not  which  of  these 
has  exerted  the  greatest  influence,  in  separating  man 
from  his  fellow  man.  "A  man,"  said  Epictetus, 
"  who  is  as  sensible  as  he  should  be  that  we  are  all 
descended  from  God,  and  that  he   is   the   Father  of 


XX11  INTRODUCTION. 

gods  and  men,  would  never  think  merely  of  himself." 
This  is  one  of  many  sentiments  of  this  great  heathen 
moralist,  which  remind  us  of  the  remark  of  Montes- 
quieu, that  if  Christianity  had  not  been  brought  to  the 
world,  the  dissolution  of  the  sect  of  the  Stoics  would 
have  been  the  greatest  calamity  which  has  ever  been 
sustained  by  our  race.  But  Christianity  gives  a 
prominence  to  this  great  sentiment,  and  it  connects 
and  surrounds  it  with  associations,  which  diffuse 
over  it  a  brighter  light,  and  give  to  it  an  infinitely 
higher  value,  than  it  could  have  derived  from  the 
united  wisdom  of  heathen  antiquity.  Christianity 
not  only  reveals  to  us  the  infinite  One,  the  great  Su- 
preme, as  the  Father  alike  of  all  men  ;  it  not  only 
instructs  all  whom  it  addresses,  in  looking  over,  and 
as  far  as  we  may,  in  looking  into,  and  through  the 
mighty  universe,  to  say  and  to  feel,  "  our  Father 
made  it  all"  ;  it  not  only  says  to  each  individual, 
and  to  all  the  race,  "  all  ye  are  brethren,"  and  re- 
quires each  one  to  cherish  towards  others  a  brother's 
interest,  and  sympathy,  and  affection  ;  but  it  re- 
quires us  also,  when  we  pray,  to  carry  with  us  these 
sympathies  and  affections  to  the  throne  of  infinite 
mercy  and  love  ;  and  there  to  strengthen,  and  hal- 
low the  feeling  of  our  connexion  with  our  fellow  men, 
through  our  common  relation  to  God,  by  addressing 
him  as,  not  my,  but  "  Our  Father  who  art  in  heav<- 
en."  Who,  indeed,  can  feel  that  he  is  a  child  of 
God,  —  that  he  has  an  immortal  nature, — that  in 
his  intellectual  and  moral  powers,  and  in  his  capaci- 
ty of  eternal  progress,  he  has  also  the  capacity  of  an 
eternal  advancement  in  likeness  to  God,  and  there- 
fore in    all  which  can  for  ever   exalt  his  nature,  and 


INTRODUCTION.  XXlli 

secure  and  increase  his  happiness ;  who  can  feel  all 
this,  and  at  the  same  time  the  truth,  which  it  is  of 
equal  importance  that  we  should  feel,  that  the  most 
untaught,  the  poorest,  and  the  most  degraded  of  our 
race  possesses  the  principles  of  a  common  nature 
with  ourselves,  and  is  equally  with  ourselves  a  child 
of  God,  and,  as  our  Father's  child,  is  our  brother; 
who  can  thus  comprehend  his  own  soul,  and  thus 
feel  his  relation  to  his  fellow  man,  and  not  feel  his 
heart  drawn  out  in  sympathy  with  human  weakness, 
and  ignorance,  and  want,  and  wretchedness,  and 
sin?  —  I  cannot  here  pursue  this  great  topic.  But 
I  could  not  pass  it  unregarded  in  this  connexion.  I 
commend  it,  however,  to  the  very  serious  consid- 
eration of  the  reader ;  for  I  am  persuaded  that  the 
cause  of  the  truest  and  highest  charity,  and  of  the 
most  enlarged  humanity,  is,  and  has  been  checked, 
misdirected,  and  frustrated  by  nothing  more,  than 
by  the  vain  and  worldly  sentiments  of  worldly  minds 
on  the  one  hand,  and  by  the  equally  unworthy,  and 
still  more  depressing  views  of  false  religion  on  the 
other,  respecting  human  nature,  and  human  relations. 
Too  often,  indeed,  is  our  nature  brought  before  us  in 
any  other  than  an  attractive  aspect.  Yet  if  we  look 
upon  it  with  the  eye  of  a  Christian,  its  original 
greatness  will  he  made  manifest,  even  in  the  traces 
of  magnificence  which  will  be  visible  in  its  very 
ruins.  Let  us  understand  and  feel  for  what  God  de- 
signed it,  at  once  in  ourselves  and  in  all  who  bear 
the  form  of  man,  and  I  know  of  no  other  sentiment,  I 
know  of  no  other  means,  by  which  the  cause  of  human 
improvement  and  happiness,  in  all  its  departments, 
may  be  so  essentially,  and  so  extensively  promoted. 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION. 

Whether  poverty  or  riches  be  the  severest  trial  of 
human  virtue,  I  will  not  attempt  to  decide.     If,  how- 
ever, we  consider    the    frequency    and    pathos    with 
which  our  Lord  and  his  apostles  speak  of  the  danger 
of  an  inordinate  love  of  riches,    and  the  multitude  of 
precepts  and  warnings  which  we    have  in   the  New 
Testament,  to  secure  us  against  this  perversion,  and 
debasement  of  our  affections,   it   would   seem    as   if 
there  could    be  no   doubt   upon    the  question,  if  its 
determination    shall  rest    only   upon  Christian  rep- 
resentations of  the  condition,  and  duties,  and  hopes 
of  men.     At  all  events,  if  there  is  any  truth  in  Chris- 
tianity, great  and    solemn    is    the    responsibility    of 
those,  to  whom  God    has  given    abundance  :  and  of 
those,  especially,  to  whom  he   has  committed   great 
possessions.     Riches   may  indeed  be  a   great   good, 
and  well  worth    all  the   care  and  labor  that  are  de- 
manded   to  obtain  them.     But  if,  by   their   increase, 
the  soul    shall   be    impoverished,   and  corrupted  ;    if, 
furnishing    nutriment   in  their  possessor    to   a   mis- 
erable   sordidness,    or  to  the    frivolity    of  vanity,  or 
to  the  arrogance  of  pride,  or  to  the  low  and  loath- 
some appetites  and   passions  of  the  sensualist,    they 
shall  be  diverted  from  the  ends   for  which  they  were 
given,  and   made   the   instruments  of  increased  and 
increasing  sin  ;   then,  better  had  it  been  for  him  who 
has  so  abused  them  to  have  been  born,   and  to   have 
lived  and  died,  in  the  deepest  poverty  of  the  world. 
Great  poverty,  it  will  readily  be  admitted  by  all  who 
know  any  thing  of  it,  is  not  indeed  a  small  trial.     It  is 
a  cause  even  of  a  great  amount  of  vice  and  of  crime 
But  sublimer  examples  of  piety  and  virtue  are  not  to 
be  found  on  earth,  than  in    some  of  the  humblest  of 


INTRODUCTION.  XXV 

the  abodes  of  want  and  suffering.  The  Baron  De- 
gerando  has  given  his  testimony  of  the  exalted  moral 
excellence  in  the  poor,  of  which  he  was  him- 
self a  witness.  And  there  is,  I  am  persuaded,  no  ex- 
aggeration in  this  testimony,  for  it  describes  no  great- 
er exellence  than  I  have  myself  witnessed  among 
them.  I  could  fill  successive  pages  with  greatly  in- 
teresting details,  illustrative  of  the  most  single-mind- 
ed, and  beautiful  self-devotion,  patience,  fortitude 
and  cheerfulness,  arising  out  of  an  unreserved  and  un- 
shaken love  of  God,  and  confidence  in  him  ;  of  the 
capacities  of  maternal  love,  and  of  the  self-sacrifices 
which  may  be  made  under  the  influence  of  a  truly 
filial  piety.  Yes,  and  I  could  cite  examples  of  be- 
nevolence among  the  poor,  which  I  have  no  doubt 
will  at  last  receive  from  the  lips  of  Jesus  as  high  a 
commendation,  as  was  that  which  he  gave  to  the 
poor  widow  whom  he  saw  casting  her  two  mites  into 
the  treasury.  — But  it  is  of  less  importance  to  decide 
which  is  the  severest  trial  of  virtue,  riches  or  pov- 
erty, than  it  is  to  know,  and  to  fulfill  the  duties  of 
the  condition  in  which  God  has  placed  us.  Let  me 
then  respectfully  say,  Look,  reader,  to  your  own  con- 
dition. What  is  it?  What  duties  does  it  impose  up- 
on you  as  a  child  of  God,  a  disciple  of  Christ,  and  a 
brother  of  man  ?  Remember  the  principle  of  the 
judgment  which  awaits  us,  To  whom  much  is  given,  of 
him  will  much  be  required.  And,  forget  not  the  words 
which  Jesus  will  address  to  those  who  have  fed  the 
hungry,  clothed  the  naked,  ministered  to  the  sick, 
and  visited  the  prisoner  ;  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it 
to  one  of  the  least  ofthesey  ye  have  done  it  unto  me. 
c 


XXVI  INTRODUCTION. 

One  other  view  of  this  subject  forces  itself  upon 
my  attention,  and  I  cannot  disregard  it.  But  I  will 
speak  very  briefly  of  it. 

Degerando  has  here  brought  the  poor  before  us,  as 
they  were  seen  by  him  in  one  of  the  most  crowded 
capitals  in  Europe,  —  in  Paris.  There,  and  in  Lon- 
don, and  in  other  of  the  oldest  and  largest  cities  of 
Christendom,  and  of  t'  e  world,  are  extremes  both  of 
affluence  and  of  poverty,  of  which,  comparatively, 
little  is  known  in  the  cities  of  our  country.  There, 
too,  both  condition  and  character  are  modified  by 
institutions  very  different  from  our  own  ;  and  it 
requires  not  much  reflection  to  perceive,  that  noth- 
ing would  be  more  absurd,  or  more  dangerous,  than 
would  be  the  inference,  because  these  cities  have 
stood  and  grown  through  so  many  centuries,  and 
through  convulsions  and  revolutions  which  might 
have  been  thought  sufficient  for  their  utter  desola- 
tion, that,  therefore,  the  cities  of  our  country,  with 
partial  changes  indeed,  but  with  equal  certainty, 
may  increase  in  numbers,  and  wealth,  and  the  power 
of  controlling  an  ignorant,  a  vicious,  and  even  a 
desperate  population.  There  is,  however,  I  fear,  a 
practical  delusion  among  us  upon  this  subject, 
which  it  is  high  time  should  be  seriously  considered, 
and  distinctly  understood.  Without  much,  and 
perhaps  without  any  very  careful  reasoning  respect- 
ing them,  we  have  brought  ourselves  to  believe  that 
there  is  in  our  institutions  a  conservative  power, 
quite  sufficient  for  our  security  from  the  pauperism 
and  crime  of  the  old  world.  Or,  if  a  doubt  sometimes 
arises  in  the  mind  upon  this  question,  the  evils  to  be 
apprehended   are  felt  to  be  very  distant ;    and  the 


INTRODUCTION.  XXV11 

fact  that  other  cities  have  survived,  and  do  survive, 
and  maintain  their  power  and  greatness  under  bur- 
dens, apparently  heavy  enough  to  crush  even  the 
strongest  of  them,  emboldens  the  hope,  that  so  also 
it  may  be  with  our  own  cities.  But  the  error  is  pal- 
pable, and  if  disregarded,  may  be  fatal.  For  how 
is  it  that  the  oldest  cities  in  Christendom,  —  to  look 
no  further,  —  have  been  advancing  in  wealth  and 
power,  under  the  increasing  weight  which  has  been 
pressing  upon  them  of  masses  of  ignorance,  and 
want,  and  crime?  How  is  it  that  order,  and  any 
thing  like  the  security  of  person  and  property,  are 
maintained  in  Paris  and  London,  amidst  an  already 
frightful,  and  a  continually  increasing  population  of 
paupers  and  of  criminals  ;  and  where  tens  of  thou- 
sands are  annually  born,  to  be  reared  in  the  most 
abject  and  degraded  condition  of  humanity,  —  in 
recklessness  and  crime  ?  How  is  it  that  in  these 
cities,  where  the  capacities  of  tens  of  thousands  are 
employed  only  in  preparation  for,  or  in  the  perpe- 
tration of  crime ;  where  there  is  not  only  little  sym- 
pathy between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  but  much 
contempt  of  the  poor  among  the  rich,  and  great 
exasperation,  and  equal  hatred  of  the  rich  among 
the  poor  ;  how  is  it  that  there,  where,  if  the  poor, 
the  ignorant,  the  despised,  the  oppressed,  the  mere 
creatures  of  their  senses  and  their  passions,  driven 
as  they  often  are  by  their  lawless  passions  to  every 
expedient  for  self  subsistence,  knew  but  the  great- 
ness of  their  combined  power,  and  how  to  combine 
their  power,  they  might  spread  universal  misrule  and 
ruin  ;  how  is  it  that  they  do  not  combine  for  the  equal- 
ization of  that  property,  by  depredations  upon  which 


XXV111  INTRODUCTION. 

they  look  for  their  principal  means  of  living  ?  How 
is  it,  in  other  words,  that  London  and  Paris  are  not 
prostrated  by  the  paupers  and  criminals  which  they 
nourish  in  their  bosom?  In  part,  it  is  admitted,  that 
these  cities  derive  their  security  from  the  very  cir- 
cumstance of  the  ignorance  of  their  poor  and  crimi- 
nals of  their  own  power.  In  part,  too,  they  are 
indebted  for  it  to  the  heterogeneous  nature  of  the 
materials  of  which  these  classes  are  composed;  for 
debasement  and  vice  are  happily  composed  of  the 
most  discordant  elements.  But  tremendous,  still, 
would  be  the  exertions  of  this  power,  unwieldy  as  it 
is,  and  unskillfully  as  it  would  be  applied,  were  it 
not  crippled,  and  kept  in  subjection  by  a  police, 
which  could  no  more  be  tolerated  under  our  institu- 
tions, than  standing  armies  like  those  of  England 
or  France.  If,  then,  we  are  ever  to  have  an  ex- 
tent and  character  of  poverty  and  crime  in  any  of 
our  cities,  like  those  of  London  and  Paris,  one  of 
two  things  is  absolutely  certain.  I  mean,  in  the 
first  place,  that  our  poor  and  our  criminals  are  either 
to  be  restrained,  and  kept  in  subjection  by  as  exten- 
sive, as  complicated,  and  as  powerful  a  police  as  is 
maintained  in  the  large  and  corrupt  cities  of  the  old 
world,  the  very  existence  and  maintenance  of  which 
supposes  a  government  which  does  not  depend  upon 
the  votes  of  the  people,  and  therefore  implies  a  pre- 
vious change  in  our  own  constitutions  of  govern- 
ment ;  —  or,  secondly,  our  country  is  to  be  a  great 
theatre  of  anarchy,  insecurity,  and  misery.  I  appeal, 
indeed,  to  the  judgment  of  any  impartial  mind,  even 
supposing  that  the  aristocracy  of  England,  lay  and 
spiritual,   should  willingly,  and   at  once,   relinquish 


INTRODUCTION.  XXIX 

their  rank,  and  all  its  supposed  rights,  and  if  the 
king,  in  the  same  spirit,  should  abdicate  his  throne, 
whether,  with  such  a  population  as  is  now  in  Eng- 
land, it  would  be  practicable  to  establish  there  a 
government  like  our  own  ?  Who  doubts  whether 
such  a  government  would  be  trampled  on,  and  de- 
stroyed, within  a  year  after  its  first  organization  ;  if 
indeed  it  could  even  be  organized  ?  With  such  a 
population,  then,  how  long  might  we  hope  to  main- 
tain our  free  institutions?  And  how  are  these  in- 
stitutions to  be  maintained,  but  through  the  educa- 
tion and  virtue  of  the  people,  and  the  speedy  adop- 
tion of  the  wisest  measures  that  can  be  devised  for 
the  remedy,  and  prevention,  of  pauperism  and  of 
crime  ? 

I  have  said  enough,  and  perhaps  more  than  I 
should  have  said,  when  I  am  detaining  the  reader 
from  the  very  interesting  and  instructive  work  which 
is  before  him.  I  will  only  add,  then,  Go,  little 
book,  and  fulfill  the  purpose  of  thy  benevolent  au- 
thor. Go  to  the  habitations,  and  seek  thy  way  into 
the  hearts,  of  all  who  will  hold  converse  with  thee. 
Go,  and  tell  thy  tales  of  human  want,  and  pain,  and 
sorrow ;  of  the  difficulties,  and  struggles,  and  tri- 
umphs of  human  virtue  ;  and  of  the  privilege  and 
happiness  of  the  visitor  and  friend  of  the  poor. 
Go,  and  teach  the  principles  of  Divine  Love  to  those 
who  know  them  not,  and  strengthen  and  direct  them 
in  every  heart  in  which  thou  shalt  find  them.  Go, 
and  help  every  one  who  will  hear  thee,  to  feel,  that 
•  '  it  is  indeed  more  blessed  to  give,  than  to  receive  ; ' 
that  he  most  truly  lives  for  himself,  who  most  faithful- 
ly, according  to  his  means  and  opportunities,  lives  for 


XXX  INTRODUCTION. 

others ;  that  he  is  the  richest,  who,  bringing  all  his 
desires  under  the  control  of  God's  will,  lives  in  the 
fullest  possession,  and  the  freest  exercise,  of  the 
divine  principle  of  Christian  love ;  and  that,  to 
every  immortal  and  accountable  being,  the  supreme 
good  consists  in  that  of  which  death  cannot  deprive 
him ;  which  he  may  carry  with  him  into  the  eternal 
world,  and  enjoy  there  for  ever.  Go,  and  may  God 
prosper  thee  !  f 

Joseph  Tuckerman. 
Boston,  April,  1832. 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

9   [  

The  translator  of  the  Visitor  of  the  Poor  has 
omitted  some  parts  of  the  original  work,  by  the 
advice  of  the  writer  of  the  Introduction.  The  chap- 
ters omitted  contain  accounts  of  many  of  the  estab- 
lishments of  Europe,  for  labor,  for  the  sick,  for  the 
old,  and  for  the  very  young.  As  these  establishments 
could  not  be  copied  to  advantage  in  this  country, 
it  was  thought  that  an  account  of  them  would  be 
a  useless  incumbrance  to  the  general  views,  which 
are  of  universal  application,  and  which  we  wished 
to  put  into  a  form  that  would  ensure  their  wide 
diffusion   in  our  country. 

Those  persons  who  are  interested  in  the  forma- 
tion or  care  of  large  public  establishments,  can  recur 
to  the  original  work,  and  to  many  works  which  the 
author  himself  points  out,  in  his  chapter  on  the 
Studies  of  the  Visitor  of  the  Poor,  an  abstract  of 
which  we  will  here  give. 

He  speaks,  in  the  first  place,  with  great  praise 
of  a  collection  of  works  by  Duquesnoy ,  the  title 
of  which,  however,  he  does  not  give.  This  collec- 
tion, he  says,  contains  an  account  of  all  the  public 
establishments  of  England,  Scotland,  Ireland,  Prus- 
sia, Germany,  and  Denmark,  besides  the  works  of 
Howard,  Eden,  Bentham,  Macfarland,  Burns,  Good, 


XXX11  PREFACE. 

Crumps,  and  the  Reports  of  various  English  socie- 
ties, committees  of  the  House  of  Commons,  &>c. 
Next  to  this  rich  collection,  he  speaks  of  Man  in 
Society,  published  in  Holland ;  An  Essay  on  the 
Annals  of  Charity  and  Christian  Beneficence,  by 
Richard ;  the  works  of  M.  de  Chamonsel ;  some  essays 
by  Lambin  de  Saint  Felix;  the  works  of  M.  de 
Liancourt,  M.  Girard  de  Mesley,  and  Dupont  de 
Nemours.  To  this  he  adds  London  Piety,  by  Baron 
de  Voght ;  and  the  works  of  Frederic  Page,  and 
George  Ensor,  upon  the  poor  and  the  poor  laws. 

To  those  who  are  interested  in  hospitals  he  re- 
commends a  Memoir  on  Hospitals,  by  Tenor  ;  06- 
servations  upon  Hospitals,  by  Cabannis  ;  and  the 
reports  on  hospitals  by  Camus  and  M.  de  Pastoret. 

If  the  public  should  express  a  strong  wish  to  see 
Degerando's  account  of  the  institutions  of  his  own 
country,  and  his  remarks  on  the  spirit  pervading 
the  French  and  English  charities,  perhaps  they 
may  be  given  at  some  future  time,  as  a  second 
part  of  the  Visitor  of  the  Poor ;  together  with  his 
remarks  upon  the  characteristic  differences  of  the 
English  and  French  associations  for  charity,  which 
form  the  concluding  part  of  his  chapter  on  the  Spirit 
of  Association. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Chapter.  Page. 

Introduction iii 

Preface xxxi 

I.     Aim  and  Character  of  Charity          ...  1 

II.    Characteristics  of  real  Indigence         .        .  13 

III.  The  Classification  of  the  Poor          ...  30 

IV.  Virtues  of  the  Poor 47 

V.    Vices  and  Moral  Amelioration  of  the  Poor       .  62 

VI.    Means  of  Obtaining  the  Confidence  of  the 

Poor 86 

VII.    Education  of  the  Children  of  the  Poor   .        .    102 

VIII.    Begging 126 

IX.    Wise  Distribution  of  Charity  .        .        .138 

X.    Who  should  be  called  to  the  Office  of  Vis- 
itor of  the  Poor         .  160 
XL    Advantages    to  be  reaped  by  the  Visitor   of 

the  Poor  173 

XII.    Spirit  of  Association  ....        184 

XIII.    The  Cooperation  of  Young  People  in  the  Es- 
tablishments of  Humanity         .        .        .    189 


VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 


CHAPTER  L 

AIM  AND  CHARACTER  OF  CHARITY. 

In  the  inequalities  of  human  condition,  the 
frivolous  see  only  the  work  of  a  blind  chance, 
which  scatters  its  favors,  and  dispenses  its  suffer- 
ings, without  any  discrimination.  There  are  men 
also,  even  calling  themselves  philosophers,  who, 
from  these  inequalities,  deduce  the  inference,  that 
there  is  no  Providence.  But  there  are  more 
heart-cheering  views  of  our  own  condition,  and 
that  of  our  fellow-beings  ;  and,  if  we  are  wise, 
we  may  see,  even  in  the  greatest  inequalities  of 
society,  the  precious  means  of  disciplining  and 
of  elevating  the  moral  character. 

In  reference  to  the  subject  of  the  present  work, 
society  may  be  divided  into  three  classes.  The 
first  class  consists  of  those  who  have  the  super- 
fluities of  life.  In  the  second  class,  resources  are 
nearly  balanced  by  those  necessities  which  stim- 
1 


"4  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

ulate  to  labor.  The  third  class  includes  those, 
whose  pressing  wants  cannot  be  entirely  satisfied 
by  their  own  industry.  This  class  is  connected 
with  the  first,  by  a  principle  of  more  elevated 
morality  than  is  involved  in  labor ;  for  is  it  not 
apparent  from  this  classification,  that  the  two 
moving  principles  of  social  action  are  designed 
to  be,  labor  and  humanity  ? 

By  the  efforts  which  it  calls  forth,  labor  increas- 
es the  physical  strength,  the  activity  of  the  mind, 
and  the  energy  of  the  character.  It  is  to  labor 
we  owe  the  progress  which  has  been  made  in  the 
arts  and  sciences,  the  extension  of  knowledge, 
and  the  union  of  men  in  commercial  relations. 
Inspiring  the  sentiment  of  independence,  it  tends 
to  preserve  personal  dignity ;  and,  by  rescuing 
men  from  idleness,  it  saves  them  from  vice.  But 
if  this  were  the  only  principle  at  work  in  society, 
social  life  would  be  but  a  contest  of  selfishness  ; 
a  calculation  of  material  interests.  Besides,  by 
attaining  its  end,  labor  annihilates  its  own  cause ; 
and  where  the  necessity  of  it  is  no  longer  felt,  a 
wretchedness  follows,  which  has  no  resources  of 
its  own. 

But  the  holy  principle  of  humanity,  the  sub- 
lime sentiment,  which  brings  together  the  affluent 


AIM  AND   CHARACTER  OF    CHARITY.  3 

and    the  wretched,   has  also  a  part    to   act,   and 
objects  to  attain.     With  an  instinctive  confidence 
in  this,  the  miserable  being  who  has  no  resources 
of  his  own,  throws  himself  upon  his  fellow  crea- 
ture, not  to  make  an  exchange  on  the  principle  of 
the   merchant,  but  to  implore  and   receive  a  gra- 
tuity ;    and  it   is    precisely   because   he    receives, 
because  the  benefit  was  purely  voluntary,  that  the 
sentiment  of  gratitude  is  awakened  in  his  heart, — 
a  sentiment  which   is  not  only  sweet   and  pure  in 
itself,  but  confers  a  sense  of  dignity  on   him  who 
feels  it.     In   this   intercourse  of  brotherhood,  the 
rich  man  also  is   elevated.     The   lethargic  sleep, 
which  might  have  ended  in  the  death  of  the  heart, 
is  broken  by  compassion  ;  and  he  finds  in  his  wealth 
a  treasure,  which  has   a  character  of  immortality 
in  it.     The  sublime  pleasure  of  generosity  stimu- 
lates its    own  farther  exercise,   and  at  last    shuns 
even    gratitude    itself,   that  it  may  be  more   en- 
tirely   pure.      Thus    life    is  revealed  in    its  true 
colors ;  the  brilliant  and  deceitful  veil,  which  pros- 
perity   threw   over    it,    falls   of    itself;    the  rich 
man  learns  by  means  of  sympathy,  that  it  is    the 
human  lot  to  suffer,  and  infers  truly,  that,  as  there 
must  be  a  balance  of  human  conditions,  as  to  their 
external  evils,  notwithstanding  the   apparent  ine- 


4  VISITOR  OF  THE    POOR. 

quality,  there  are  other  evils  than  poverty,  which 
he  may  feel  and  the  poor  may  relieve. 

Thus  in  the  physical  world,  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  exchange  the  treasures  of  moisture. 
This  principle  of  mutual  succour,  by  which  the 
rich  and  the  poor  meet  each  other  and  embrace, 
as  fellow  citizens  of  the  same  distant  country,  is 
also  none  other  than  that,  which  calls  age  to  the 
protection  of  childhood  ;  which  binds  the  stronger 
sex,  who  need  the  softening  influence  of  tender- 
ness, to  the  weaker,  who  need  to  be  protected  ; 
which  leads  the  valiant  and  the  vigorous  to  de- 
fend their  firesides  and  their  homes.  It  is  the 
principle  of  giving  and  receiving :  the  life  and 
happiness  of  the  moral  world.  In  no  condition 
can  we  be  entirely  deprived  of  the  benefit  of  this 
general  principle  of  social  action ;  but  it  is  in  the 
extreme  cases  of  affluence  and  wretchedness,  that 
it  is  most  strikingly  manifested. 

Had  the  affluent  and  indigent  been  allowed  to 
have  existed  without  any  mutual  relations,  there 
would  have  been,  indeed,  a  principle  of  eternal 
separation  implanted  in  the  very  constitution  of 
society.  But  Providence  has  bestowed  the  gentle 
influence  of  compassion,  to  establish  between  these 
classes  of  men  a  sublime  union.      It  is  true,  this 


AIM  AND   CHARACTER  OF   CHARITY.  5 

sentiment  has  a  voluntary  and  free  character.     It 
should  be  so,  in  order  to  be  a  moral  sentiment,  and 
it  is   thus  Providence  is  made  manifest.     Unless 
refusal  were  possible,  giving  could  not  be  a  virtue  ; 
and  this   freedom  is  of  course  sometimes  abused, 
and  the  hard-hearted  are  found  among  the  gene- 
rous.     Out  of  apparent  chaos,  is  alike  raised  the 
harmony  of  society,  and  of  the  soul.     Misfortune 
serves  as  a  great  aud   difficult  education,  in  which 
compassionate   virtue  is  the  guiding  light,  explain- 
ing all   the  mysteries.     Riches  also,  are   a   great 
responsibility  ;  but   under  the  guidance  of  virtue, 
they  also  become  the  sources  of  merit.     Is  this  a 
vain  theory,  a  mystical  speculation  ?    Ask  the  suf- 
ferers in  the  late   revolutions  of   Europe.     Who, 
amongst  us,  has  not  known  suffering  and  poverty  ? 
And    who   has    not    found    an    asylum,    perhaps 
support,   among  strangers  ?      Have   we  not  been 
succoured  by  the  poor  ;  have  we  not  received  hos- 
pitality in  cottages ;  have  we  not  seen  the  hearts 
of  those,  whom  our  frivolous  vanity  had  disdained, 
as  belonging  to  the    inferior  conditions,  melt  in 
our  behalf?      Woe   to  him  who   did  not  compre- 
hend these  lessons  which   misfortune  gave  !   who 
did  not  discover  the  sacred  tie   which  generosity 
forms  with  misfortune  !  How  often  have  we  expe- 
1* 


O  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR, 

rienced  the  celestial  consolation  of  mere  sympa- 
thy !  how  often  too  have  we  been  called  to  weep 
over  the  unfortunate  great ;  —  to  relieve,  to  save, 
or  to  suffer  with,  some  of  the  great  family  of  man. 
In  this  great  and  terrible  school,  have  we  not  be- 
come better  ?  If  we  have  not,  we  have  turned 
aside,  in  the  most  guilty  thoughtlessness,  or  re- 
pelled by  the  most  extraordinary  hardness,  the 
mightiest  of  the  lessons  of  Providence. 

Rousseau  has  sketched  the  picture  of  nations, 
deprived  of  our  arts,  and  exempted  from  our  luxu- 
ries. But  the  relations  of  travellers  do  not  bear 
him  out.  Take,  however,  the  most  favorable  of 
these  pictures,  and  grant  it  to  be  in  a  degree 
correct.  Social  harmony,  in  such  a  state  of  society, 
rests  not  upon  the  highest  principle.  If  there  is 
less  suffering,  there  is  also  less  assistance  ;  condi- 
tions are  uniform,  but  there  are  no  inspirations  of 
sympathy,  like  those  called  forth  by  the  extreme 
conditions  of  our  society.  Precisely  because  their 
civilization  is  less  developed,  their  sensibility  is 
less  lively  and  refined.  But  this  state,  be  its 
desirableness  what  it  may,  is  always  and  neces- 
sarily a  temporary  one.  Social  economy  must  go 
on ;  and  then  uniformity  will  disappear,  equality 
will  be  broken  up.     But  at  the  same  time  knowl- 


AIM  AND   CHARACTER  OF   CHARITY.  7 

edge  increases,  and  moral  sentiment  takes  a  higher 
flight.  It  is  true  the  abysses  of  misery  are  opened, 
but  Charity  appears,  to  sound  them.  Let  the 
doubter,  who  is  speculating  coldly  on  these  evils 
of  social  life,  allow  his  heart  to  be  touched,  let 
him  go  and  console  and  sustain  the  sufferers,  let 
his  eyes  meet  the  consoled  and  relieved,  and 
Providence  will  be  justified.  He  will  learn  that 
there  is  nothing  wanting,  but  that  man  should 
cooperate  in  the  accomplishment  of  designs,  which 
the  believing  are  allowed  progressively  to  under- 
stand, though  the  Infinite  Mind  alone  could  origi- 
nate them. 

There  is  a  morality,  however,  in  the  first  state 
of  society,  though  a  constrained  and  limited  mo- 
rality. In  the  alliance  of  equals,  the  balance  of 
interests  rests  upon  the  guarantee  of  rights.  But 
the  alliance  between  the  strong  and  the  weak 
expresses  a  more  perfect,  because  a  more  disinter- 
ested morality.  The  first  kind  of  morality  is 
dignified  and  proud,  and  satisfies,  perhaps,  the 
present  state  of  man  ;  the  second  kind  is  sublime 
and  tender,  and  reveals  the  future.  To  give  is  to 
love ;  to  receive  is  to  learn  to  love  ;  with  the 
delicate  it  is  already  to  love,  and  to  love  much. 


8  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

The  plans  of  Providence  are  thus  manifest. 
Over  this  second  alliance  of  man  with  man,  the 
noblest  of  the  virtues  is  called  to  preside,  and 
poverty  is  put  under  the  guardianship  and  patron- 
age of  riches.  Mankind  becomes  a  great  family, 
where  the  weak  belong  to  the  strong,  as  children 
to  parents,  with  this  difference  only,  that  it  is  by 
a  free  and  voluntary  adoption,  in  the  calmness  of 
the  mind. 

Poverty  is  to  riches,  what  childhood  is  to  ma- 
ture life.  Let  the  rich  man  know  this  dignity 
with  which  he  is  invested,  and  regard  it  rightly. 
It  is  not  a  vague  indefinite  patronage,  that  he  is 
called  upon  to  exercise.  Children  are  not  given 
confusedly,  and  without  distinction,  to  men.  Ev- 
ery child  has  its  own  father.  And  the  rich  must 
exercise  a  personal,  immediate,  individual  patron- 
age. It  is  not  their  munificence  only,  which  is 
demanded,  but  a  personal  care,  which,  though  free 
and  voluntary,  is  real  and  active.  Do  we  not 
realize  what  is  meant  ?  Let  us  go  to  yonder  public 
square,  and  look  upon  the  scaffold  erected  there, 
and  the  wretch  who  mounts  it.  — That  man  is  our 
brother,  and  might  have  been  good.  He  was 
poor.  Perhaps  our  indolent  alms  chanced  to  fall 
upon  him,  but  no  one  watched  over  his  mind  and 


AIM  AND  CHARACTER  OF  CHARITY.  U 

morals,  or  excited  him  to  the  labor  whose  pre- 
servative principle  he  was  not  wise  enough  to 
understand.  He  conceived  of  an  easier  means  to 
enrich  himself  than  labor  affords.  The  very- 
money  we  threw  at  him,  corrupted  him.  Perhaps 
he  bought  a  dagger  with  it.  He  was  already- 
vicious,  and  with  one  step  he  became  criminal. 
He  attacked  the  life  of  him  whom  he  robbed.  He 
might  have  struck  at  his  benefactor,  for  he  did 
not  know  him.  Ah  !  had  he  not  an  indigence  of 
soul  and  reason,  more  fatal  than  hunger  ? 

It  is  not  alms  alone,  which  the  miserable  solicit, 
but  guidance,  consolation,  support.  The  blind 
and  paralytic  are  in  vain  loaded  with  money. 
They  must  have  a  more  immediate  human  aid. 
And  most  of  the  indigent  are  blind,  —  blind  and 
paralytic  in  a  more  important  than  the  physical 
sense.  That  charity  is  the  least  worthy  of  the 
name,  which  gives  only  gold. 

Charity,  then,  and  not  aim s- giving ,  is  the  aim 
of  the  designs  of  Providence,  the  vocation  of  the 
rich  man,  and  the  great  element  necessary  to  the 
harmony  of  the  moral  world.  Alms-giving  is  only 
one  of  the  instruments  of  charity  ;  it  is  not  the 
only  one,  or  the  most  important  ;  it  even  contra- 
dicts, and  sometimes  destroys  the  effects  of  chari- 
ty itself. 


10  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

But  charity  is   entirely  an   individual  thing.     A 
largess    given  in   a    general  way,   thrown  out   to 
escape   importunity,  subscribed  and   published,  to 
nourish   pride  by  the  ostentation   of  false  virtue, 
has  nothing  to   do  with  charity,  with  the  tie  that 
unites  brother   to   brother.     When  alms-giving  is 
but  a  shield  from  personal  pain,  and  selfish  terror, 
at  the  sight  of  misfortune,  I   had  almost  said  it  is 
an  insult  to   the  miserable.      Charity   alone  does 
good.      Her   solicitude    is    enlightened    and    pro- 
spective, as  well  as  tender  and  affectionate.     She 
examines  before  she  acts  ;    she  takes  a  wide  sur- 
vey, and  extends    her   regards   over   the    future. 
She  goes  back  to   causes ;    she  embraces   all  cir- 
cumstances ;    she   adds  to  her  gifts,  care,  conso- 
lation,   counsel,   and    even    parental     reprimand. 
This   is  the   wonderful  inspiration,  which  reveals 
and   furnishes  to  men,  who  are  not   in  the  most 
prosperous    conditions,   the  means  of  associating 
themselves  in  works  of  benevolence;    of  accept- 
ing the   noblest,  the  most  difficult,  the  vgpst  use- 
ful   offices   towards  their  unfortunate  fellow-men ; 
for  it  teaches  not  only  to  do  good,  but  also,  what 
is  not  less  important,  the  manner  of  doing  good. 

Civil  laws,  which  are  only  a  positive  expression 
of  the   moral  laws,  in  their  necessary  and  rigorous 


AIM  AND   CHARACTER  OF    CHARITY.  11 

applications,  have  required,  that  guardianship 
should  be  appointed  and  secured  to  minority. 
Now  indigence  is  a  minority.  In  going  back  to 
the  moral  law  itself,  and  contemplating- it  in  its 
principle,  and  embracing  it  in  all  its  extent,  we 
ask,  Who  shall  appoint  the  guardian  of  this  minor- 
ity ?  and  the  answer  is  —  Charity. 

The  essence  of  a  good  administration  of  pub- 
lic charity,  then,  is  the  art  of  creating  a  voluntary, 
immediate,  and  individual  guardianship  of  the 
prosperous  over  the  unfortunate  ;  the  exercise  of 
this  guardianship  being  the  most  efficacious  spring 
in  the  application  of  private  charity.  This  prin- 
ciple is  eminently  fruitful.  Its  applications,  in 
pointing  out  the  means  of  recognising  and  dis- 
cerning true  indigence,  of  relieving  it,  and  of 
rendering  alms  useful  to  the  giver,  as  well  as  re- 
ceiver, will  develope  of  themselves.  It  is  the  de- 
sign of  the  ensuing  work,  to  sum  up  faithfully  the 
instructions  which  experience  has  furnished,  as  to 
the  manner  in  which  this  guardianship  may  be 
instituted.  They  are  the  observations  and  testi- 
mony of  persons,  who  have  devoted  their  lives  to 
the  exercise  of  charity.  The  subject  will  be 
interesting  to  all,  who  know  that  power  comes 
from  God  to  man,  on  the  condition  of  his  being 


12  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

a  faithful  minister  of  Providence  on  earth ;  and 
that,  consequently,  every  thing  is  bound  together 
by  mutual  ties  and  dependencies.  Let  us  pity 
those,  who  only  see  the  administration  of  charity 
in  dollars  and  cents.  Its  spirit  inhabits  a  higher 
sphere.  Its  strength  and  aim,  those  only  can 
understand,  and  experience,  and  turn  into  action, 
whose  profound  meditations  upon  the  destinies  of 
humanity  have  been  lighted  at  the  lamp  of  mo- 
rality and  religion. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHARACTERISTICS   OF  REAL  INDIGENCE. 

It  is  important  to  know  the  characteristics  of 
real  indigence  ;  for  errors  on  this  point  are  fre- 
quent, and  very  injurious,  being  the  cause  of 
feelings  of  hesitation  in  some  who  are  called 
upon  for  assistance,  and  furnishing  pretexts  for 
indifference  to  others.  The  general  excuse  of 
those  who  do  not  wish  to  give,  is,  that  they  fear 
they  shall  give  injudiciously,  —  an  excuse  often  but 
too  well  founded.  And  thus  the  unfortunate, 
whose  complaints  are  drawn  from  them  by  the 
very  excess  of  suffering,  and  who  already  feel  the 
additional  misery  of  exposing  themselves  to  refu- 
sals, are  liable  to  be  met  with  vague  suspicions 
and  hesitation,  and  find  they  have  still  greater 
enemies  than  poverty  to  encounter, — injustice 
and  contempt.  But  it  is  indiscriminate  alms- 
giving, which  causes  this  difficulty,  by  creating  a 
new  and  factitious  indigence.  The  individuals 
who  are  its  objects,  becoming  idle,  and  losing  the 
opportunities  of  employment,  feel  a  real  poverty, 
2 


14  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

when  the  assistance  ceases.  They  have  learned 
to  count  upon  external  aid,  and  not  upon  their 
own  resources.  Thus  a  premium  is  offered  to 
idleness,  and  society  loses  the  labor  of  which  it 
is  in  need.  But  the  receivers  of  these  fatal  gifts 
are  still  more  deeply  injured  than  society  itself. 
Labor  would  have  preserved  their  health,  taught 
them  foresight,  led  them  to  salutary  reflections, 
and  inspired  self-respect,  by  securing  the  esteem 
of  others.  It  is  mistaken  kindness  which  turns 
them  away  from  fulfilling  their  vocation  on  earth, 
by  a  useful  and  honorable  life.  Degraded  by 
idleness,  debased  by  falsehood,  and  guilty  of 
real  robbery  (for  they  use  up  the  aid  that  should  be 
given  to  real  sufferers),  they  will  perhaps  soon 
consume  what  they  get  so  easily,  in  licentiousness. 
Thus  we  have  in  reality  taken  from  them  the 
source  of  future  subsistence,  and  deprived  them 
of  their  only  wealth  ;  for  we  have  taken  from  them 
their  morals. 

"  But  how  shall  I  discriminate  ? "  says  the 
alms-giver.  "  Does  not  pretended  indigence  pre- 
sent itself 'under  the  same  aspect  as  real?  Is 
not  the  former  even  more  pressing  in  its  de- 
mands ?  " 


CHARACTERISTICS   OF  REAL  INDIGENCE.         15 

Undoubtedly  ;  and  importunity  itself  is  some- 
times a  sign,  which  should  put  you  on  your  guard. 
But  why  do  you  not  go  near  to  the  person  that 
implores  you ;  and  why  do  you  not  seek  out  those 
who  do  not  implore  you  ?  It  is  in  their  dwelling- 
places  that  you  must  investigate  which  is  the 
reality,  and  which  is  the  phantom  ;  and  it  is  an 
investigation  that  requires  attentive  study.  It  is 
not  enough  that  you  are  open-handed ;  you  must 
open  your  eyes  too.  It  is  your  own  fault  if  you 
are  deceived. 

But  to  come  to  details.  In  the  first  place,  con- 
sider the  age  and  sex ;  examine  the  state  of 
health  and  strength. 

"It  is  a  child,  an  old  man;  they  will  not  de- 
ceive me," 

But  cannot  their  own  family  maintain  them  ? 
or  may  not  the  gray  hairs  of  the  one,  and  the 
innocence  of  the  other,  be  used  as  instruments  by 
shameless  speculators  ?  Beware  how  you  become 
an  accomplice  in  a  conspiracy  against  the  most 
holy  ties  of  nature ! 

"  It  is  a  mother,  surrounded  by  young  children." 

But  do  they  belong  to  her  ?  Has  she  not  bor- 
rowed, or  perhaps  stolen  them  from  their  own 
mother  ? 


16  VISITOR  OF   THE  POOR. 

"  It  is  an  invalid." 

But  is  the  infirmity  real  ?  You  exclaim,  "  What 
shall  we  believe  then  ?  "  and  perhaps  you  deceive 
yourself  into  the  idea  that  you  are  not  responsible 
for  your  ignorance. 

On  the  other  hand  ;  here  is  a  house  near  your 
own.  Do  you  know  its  inhabitants  ?  It  looks 
poor.  Let  us  enter  it.  We  will  ascend  the 
stairs  to  the  garret.  What  a  spectacle  ! — Your 
presence  excites  astonishment,  perhaps  a  blush. 
They  seemed  to  be  desirous  of  concealing  what 
you  behold.  There  is  a  widow  extended  on  the 
bed  of  death,  and  little  children  about  to  become 
orphans.  There  is  a  little  straw.  Every  thing 
else,  —  furniture,  linen,  clothing,  have  been  sold  ; 
and  where  is  food,  where  medicine,  where  conso- 
lation ?  Whom  can  you  accuse  for  your  igno- 
rance of  this  poor  neighbour  ? 

To  distinguish  the  characteristics  of  real  pover- 
ty, wre  must  go  back  to  its  causes. 

There  are  three  causes  of  real  indigence.  Ina- 
bility to  labor,  insufficient  produce  of  labor,  and 
absolute  want  of  employment. 

1.  Inability  to  labor  is  either  temporary  or  last- 
ing. It  is  temporary  with  the  sick  and  the  wound- 
ed ;  lasting  with  the  old  and  incurable.     It  is  also 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  REAL  INDIGENCE.        17 

either  absolute  or  partial.  It  is  absolute  with  the 
bed-ridden,  the  paralytic,  and  the  maimed ;  and 
partial  with  all  others,  even  the  blind. 

To  judge  concerning  the  ability  to  labor,  you 
must  see  for  yourself.  You  must  go  to  the  bed- 
side of  the  sufferers,  and  not  once  only,  but  on 
different  days,  and  at  different  hours.  Even  this 
is  not  enough.  You  must  question  the  neighbours, 
you  must  bring  a  physician.  The  misery  which 
is  without  resources,  is  precisely,  for  that  very 
reason,  the  misery  which  cannot  have  produced 
itself. 

Perhaps  you  have  sent  the  remedy  necessary 
for  the  sick,  and  go  now  to  administer  it  with  your 
own  hands.  But  when  you  enter,  you  seek  it  in 
vain.  It  has  disappeared,  and  you  find  in  its 
stead  preparations  for  a  repast.  This  was  well 
acted  !  what  will  be  the  confusion  of  the  pretend- 
ed sufferers  !  and  what  your  indignation  ! 

Indignation !  the  fault  was  your  own.  Had  you 
known  how  to  observe,  there  were  a  thousand 
looks  and  gestures,  any  one  of  which  would  have 
betrayed  their  secret.  It  was  your  duty  to 
learn  how  long  these  people  had  been  in  the 
house,  where  they  lived  before,  why  they  quitted 
the  former  house,  what  reputation  they  left  there, 
2* 


18  VISTTOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

when  and  how  the  patient  had  been  attacked  by 
disease ;  a  thousand  things  should  have  been 
known,  nearly  their  whole  lives.  As  these  inqui- 
ries should  not  have  been  made  from  a  spirit  of 
inquisitorial  curiosity,  but  from  benevolent  solici- 
tude ;  so  the  details  should  not  be  obtained  by 
humiliating  questioning,  but  in  confidence.  It  is 
the  tenderness  of  gratitude  which  draws  these 
bitter  memorials  of  misfortune  from  the  modest 
poor. 

2.  The  produce  of  labor  is  insufficient,  in  the 
first  place,  with  the  aged  and  infirm,  who  can 
follow  some  occupation,  but  whose  full  strength 
has  been  impaired  ;  especially  in  women  who  have 
lived  isolated,  and  who,  never  having  exercised 
any  variety  of  talents,  are  reduced  to  the  most 
simple  mechanical  labor.  Their  feebleness,  their 
frequent  infirmities,  and  the  organization  of  socie- 
ty, which  leaves  them  only  a  subaltern  and  unpro- 
ductive employment,  even  in  their  own  line, 
exposes  them  to  the  danger  of  scarcely  procuring 
the  supplies  for  their  necessary  wants. 

The  same  difficulty  occurs  when  there  are 
young  children  in  a  family.  In  the  laboring  class- 
es of  society,  the  price  of  daily  labor  is  naturally 
regulated  by  the  sum  necessary  for  the  support  of 


CHARACTERISTICS   OF  REAL  INDIGENCE.        19 

the  generality,  and  it  is  found  insufficient  for  cases 
of  exception.  The  most  industrious  and  frugal 
workman  finds  himself  embarrassed  as  soon  as  he 
begins  to  have  a  family  to  clothe  and  feed. 
Besides,  the  mother  has  so  much  less  time  to 
devote  herself  to  productive  occupations.  This 
is  only  partial  indigence,  it  is  true,  but  it  is  both 
respectable  and  interesting.  If  in  this  case,  the 
mother  is  a  widow,  or  has  been  abandoned  by  her 
husband,  and  is  the  only  support  of  her  family, 
we  should  especially  feel,  that  something  is  due  to 
her  on  account  of  her  sex,  which  has,  besides,  in 
itself,  a  particular  claim  to  protection.  The  last 
case  also  brings  up  another  consideration,  which 
will  excite  our  solicitude.  Misery  may  lead  a 
woman  to  a  still  greater  misfortune  than  poverty. 
It  may  expose  her  to  seduction ;  and  what  conse- 
quences may  ensue  from  a  single  moment  of  aban- 
donment, caused  by  the  pressure  of  necessity  ! 
Oh  ye  mothers  !  who,  in  the  midst  of  abun- 
dance, think  yourselves  benevolent  and  pious, 
because  you  give  alms  at  the  door  of  a  church, 
why  did  you  not  assist  in  time  that  young  orphan 
girl,  who  was  still  innocent  ?  You  might,  per- 
haps, have  saved  your  own  son  from  corrup- 
tion, by  arresting,  on  the  brink  of  the  abyss,  her 
who  will  one  day  lead  him  into  vice. 


20  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

And  fly  to  that  other  wretched  woman,  whose 
virtue  is  struggling  with  famine.  But  here  you 
must  redouble  your  care,  lest  she  share  your 
bounty  with  the  vile  seducer  himself. 

Ascertain  if  this  mother,  surrounded  by  children, 
is  worthy  of  the  name  ;  lest  by  assisting  her,  you 
give  a  bad  example  to  those  who  are  yet  innocent. 
Learn  how  she  has  lived,  in  order  better  to  assure 
yourself  how  she  lives   now. 

Here  is  a  family  consisting  of  seven  or  eight 
children,  who  live  by  manual  labor.  But  what  is 
their  trade  ?  there  are  more  or  less  productive 
ones.  How  do  the  husband  and  wife  live  togeth- 
er ?  What  is  the  age  of  the  children  ?  Is  there 
no  one  of  them  who  can  begin  to  assist  their 
parents  ?  Have  the  parents  turned  the  assistance 
they  have  already  received,  to  the  advantage  of 
the  family  ?  Study  the  internal  habits  of  the 
family.  If  the  parents  do  not  tell  you  the  truth, 
the  children  will  betray  it  unconsciously.  From 
their  condition  and  language,  you  can  judge  what 
are  the  lessons  and  examples  they  are  accustomed 
to  receive. 

3.  A  scarcity  of  work  is  sometimes  brought  about, 
by  the  revolution  of  politics,  or  the  sudden  inven- 
tion of  machinery.     But  each  particular  case  of 


CHARACTERISTICS   OF  REAL  INDIGENCE.        21 

poverty,  which  is  referred  to  this  cause,  must  be 
investigated  carefully.  A  workman  may,  from 
caprice,  change  his  labor  for  a  kind  to  which  he 
is  not  so  competent.  You  must  go  to  his  em- 
ployer, and  ascertain  the  fact.  And  you  must  not 
implicitly  confide  in  his  employer's  testimony,  for 
he  may  have  faults,  or  be  without  judgment. 
You  must  go  to  his  previous  employers  also,  and 
trace  out  his  history.  Other  questions  also  arise  ; 
is  the  trade,  or  kind  of  labor,  a  flourishing  or 
a  languishing  one  ?  Is  it  overflowing  with  the  num- 
bers who  follow  it  ?  Is  it  suited  to  his  talents  ? 
All  these  things  are  to  be  considered,  before  you 
can  either  assist  or  reprove  the  inactive  laborer. 
Having  ascertained  all  these  circumstances,  you 
will  know  how  to  act. 

But  supposing  you  ascertain  the  fact  that  the 
cause  of  his  indigence  lies  in  the  sufferer's  own 
fault,  still  this  indigence  may  be  real  now.  Care 
must  then  be  taken  not  to  ward  off  the  salutary 
consequences  which  teach  him  an  important  lesson  ; 
and  yet  he  must  not  be  left  in  hopeless  suffering. 
No  written  rules  can  be  given  for  such  delicate 
cases,  but  we  will  not  dismiss  this  difficult  subject 
without  giving  some  guiding  remarks.  Let  us, 
then,    remember    that    charity    provides    for    the 


22  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

future  :  she  not  only  relieves  the  present  evil, 
but  endeavours  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  it, 
and  in  order  to  do  this,  she  inquires  into  the 
causes  of  this  indigence,  real  in  its  results,  but 
to  be  remedied  only  by  destroying  its  causes 
In  these  causes,  are  included  improvidence, 
idleness,  and  debauchery. 

Of  these  three,  improvidence  is  the  most  ex- 
cusable ;  for  it  is  sometimes  found  connected  with 
honesty,  even  with  industry  and  activity.  Some- 
times it  is  the  consequence  of  a  too  confident  and 
ill-regulated  activity.  But  this  last  most  excusable 
improvidence  has  its  peculiar  signs.  You  must 
examine  the  dwelling,  see  how  the  furniture  is 
arranged,  look  at  the  linen,  and,  obtaining  their 
confidence,  learn  how  they  combine  their  scanty 
means,  and  see  if  they  know  how  to  chocse,  to 
spare,  to  save.  They  will  tell  you  all  their  im- 
prudences, under  the  reviving  hope  of  being  as- 
sisted ;  and  thus  you  will  have  opportunity  to 
offer  them  the  counsels  which  will  give  permanent 
value  to  what  you  bestow  upon  them. 

Improvidence  is  also  the  consequence  of  idle- 
ness. But  here  the  idleness  is  the  first  cause,  a 
disease  not  of  the  mind,  but  the  soul.  This  is 
not  a  want  of  reflection,  but  a  defect  of  will.     It 


CHARACTERISTICS   OF  REAL  INDIGENCE.        23 

is  a  deep  evil,  perhaps  the  hardest  of  all  to 
cure.  You  may  make  a  criminal  or  a  vicious 
person  repent ;  but  how  can  you  raise  the  stupefied 
from  their  torpor  ?  It  is  like  attempting  to  resus* 
citate  the  dead.  However,  there  are  different  kinds 
of  idleness.  Has  the  indolence  in  this  particular 
case  a  physical  character  ?  —  or  is  it  the  effect  of 
discouragement  ?  or  of  a  sort  of  idiocy  ?  or  the 
consequence  of  lax  morals  ?  —  You  must  watch 
the  manner,  and  step,  and  dress.  —  Physical  indo- 
lence will  be  quiet  and  hold  out  its  hand,  almost 
unconscious  of  its  own  character.  Discouragement 
will  manifest  itself  in  a  sombre  and  melancholy 
sadness ;  it  will  be  silent  and  reserved.  Idiocy 
will  be  inefficient  in  the  midst  of  the  greatest  want, 
and  indifferent  when  relieved  from  suffering. 
Moral  idleness  will  betray  itself  in  debasing  ser- 
vility. —  You  must  not  trust  in  discriminating 
these  kinds  of  indolence,  to  present  observations  ; 
but  go  back  to  the  childhood  and  youth  of  the 
individual,  and  endeavour  to  ascertain  his  moral 
history. 

Another  evil  is  loose  living.  Do  not  think  that 
in  inviting  you  to  penetrate  this  dreadful  mystery, 
I  wish  to  turn  aside  your  succouring  bounty.  Oh 
no !  Divine   Providence  does  not  despair  of  vice, 


24  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

and  we  should  not  despair  of  it.  We  must  look 
on  vice  as  another  misfortune,  but  as  having  also 
its  remedies,  and  needing  a  still  more  earnest  solici- 
tude on  our  part.  What  happiness  and  glory  would 
it  be  to  us  to  relieve  and  restore  to  virtue  the  victim 
of  vice  !  But  of  all  kinds  of  evil  this  is  the  most 
difficult  to  investigate.  This  vice  is  almost  always 
concealed.  It  is  often  enveloped  in  a  veil  of 
hypocrisy  !  We  must  observe  carefully  if  there 
is  no  affectation  in  what  is  said  about  honesty  and 
religious  observances.  We  must  watch  for  those 
inadvertences  which  the  most  cunning  cannot 
avoid.  We  must  mark  whether  our  sudden 
appearance  to  them  agitates  them,  and  what  im- 
pression our  words  make  ;  we  must  surprise  them 
in  those  actions  which  they  thought  would  be 
concealed  from  us  ;  we  must  find  out  their  con- 
nexions in  life,  and  the  kind  of  characters  they 
have  most  frequent  intercourse  with. 

And  suppose  we  find  that  there  is  vice.  Let  us 
go  still  farther,  and  learn  whether  it  is  the  cause  or 
the  effect  of  the  poverty  which  accompanies  it ; 
for  poverty  is  often  a  fatal  counsellor,  confounding 
the  ideas,  throwing  a  cloud  over  the  reason,  and 
putting  despair  into  the  heart.  Iron  must  be 
tempered,  to  be  hardened  ;  but  sometimes  it  splits 
and  breaks  in  the  process. 


CHARACTERISTICS   OF  REAL  INDIGENCE.        25 

Such  are  some  of  the  distinctions  and  character- 
istics which  belong  to  the  poor.  Hardly  any  of 
them  are  absolute  or  universal.  There  is  only 
one  test  for  discovering  the  truth.  See  if  the 
poor  who  are  capable  of  any  portion  of  labor, 
accept  it  with  pleasure  and  execute  it  with  zeal, 
when  it  is  presented  to  them.  Do  they  them- 
selves second  and  aid  your  exertions  to  the  utmost 
of  their  moral  and  physical  resources  ?  Do  they 
limit  themselves  to  accepting  only  what  is  neces- 
sary to  make  up  the  deficiency  of  their  wants  ? 
If  so,  you  have  reason  to  presume,  that  the  indi- 
gence is  real.  If,  on  the  contrary,  they  neglect 
the  labor  that  is  presented  to  them  ;  if  they  relax 
when  they  are  supported,  then  there  is  reason  to 
doubt. 

There  is  a  second  indication  to  which  we  can 
recur  with  advantage.  Does  the  poor  man  insist 
upon  obtaining  assistance  in  money,  or  does  he 
willingly  accept  it  in  useful  articles  ?  In  the  last 
case,  what  kind  of  articles  does  he  accept  most 
willingly  ?  You  will  sometimes  see  those,  who,  if 
you  should  believe  all  they  say,  were  ready  to  die 
of  hunger,  receive  with  a  bad  grace,  and  even 
disdain,  a  cheap  soup ;  and  sometimes  go  and 
sell  it. 

3 


26  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

But  there  are  no  indications  of  this  kind,  which 
can  supersede  the  necessity  of  investigation.  To 
go,  to  see,  to  converse  ;  above  all,  to  continue 
these  observations  with  method,  and  a  kind  of 
persevering  connexion,  —  this  is  the  first  and  es- 
sential condition. 

In  the  case  of  an  indigent  family,  we  should 
apply  to  the  proprietor  or  the  principal  inhabitant 
of  the  house,  to  find  out  if  the  rent  is  regularly 
paid,  and  if  the  family  is  peaceable  and  regular 
in  its  habits.  But  it  is  essential  to  know,  also,  how 
long  they  have  lived  in  the  house ;  the  poor  are 
apt  to  change  their  abode  very  often.  If  the 
family  has  been  in  a  house  but  a  short  time,  the 
word  of  the  proprietor  is  no  guarantee ;  it  will  be 
necessary  then,  to  go  still  farther  back,  and  in- 
quire at  the  former  place  of  residence.  The 
neighbours  should  be  consulted  also.  But  their 
testimony  should  be  received  cautiously.  Too 
often,  jealousy  and  animosity  lead  malicious  neigh- 
bours to  accuse  the  unfortunate  lightly ;  often,  on 
the  other  hand,  pity  and  natural  complaisance 
dispose  them  to  disguise  vices  and  exaggerate 
wants.  How  can  any  one  be  willing  to  act  as 
informer  against  an  unfortunate  family ;  or  to 
discourage  those  who  appear  ready  to  relieve  them  ? 


CHARACTERISTICS   OF  REAL  INDIGENCE.       27 

A  practised    observer  may  read    much   in   the 
features    and  countenance  of  the   person  he   de- 
sires    to   know.       Generally,   this    expression    is 
strongly  marked  and  sincere   in   the  lower  classes 
of  society,   where  the  passions  are   stronger,  and 
there  is  less  attention  to   maimer.     But  here   we 
must  be  very   cautious :    the   common   propensity 
to  judge  characters  by   the  contenance,  exposes 
to  much  and   serious   injustice.     Sometimes   pro- 
longed misfortune,  and  physical  suffering,  produce 
expressions  of  countenance  which  may  be  misin- 
terpreted ;  while,  on   the  other  hand,  the  habit  of 
hypocrisy  sometimes  gives  an  air  of  sweetness  and 
resignation,  which  deceives  us. 

A  blush  at  receiving  a  favor  is  a  surer  indica- 
tion than  tears ;  tears  are  more  easy  to  feign. 
The  signs  of  delicacy  and  of  a  remaining  sense 
of  character  are  also  a  good  augury.  But  assur- 
ance is  a  bad  symptom ;  he  who  demands  and 
receives,  without  a  shade  of  embarrassment,  is  at 
least  familiarized  to  humiliation  ;  and  we  have 
reason  to  fear  that  his  moral  sentiments  are  en- 
feebled, and  his  soul  has  lost  the  energy  necessary 
for  struggling  against  adversity,  and  for  opposing 
to  it  the  resources  derived  from  within. 


28  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

Perhaps  these  precautions  may  seem  harsh  to 
the  delicate  and  feeling  mind  :  and  it  will  be  said, 
"  What !  shall  we  aggravate,  by  our  suspicions, 
that  misfortune,  already  so  worthy  of  pity,  merely 
because  it  is  obliged  to  abase  itself  so  far  as  to 
solicit  assistance  ?  Shall  we  dare  to  doubt  the 
tears  we  see  flowing ;  to  resist  the  suppliant  voice 
that  implores  us?"  —  Well  then,  —  try  a  very 
simple  experiment.  Ask  the  suppliant  for  his 
precise  address,  and  tell  him  you  will  go  and  see 
him.  Perhaps  he  will  disappear  without  answer- 
ing you.  Perhaps  he  gives  you  an  address,  but 
you  go  and  inquire,  and  he  is  unknown  at  the 
place  indicated.  This  is  what  happens  every 
day. 

N.  B.  If  any  one  wishes  to  see  facts  which  will  prove 
how  the  pretended  indigent  may  be  multiplied,  by  a  blind 
facility  of  giving;  let  him  compare  the  number  of  families 
who  are  admitted  now  to  the  public  charity  in  Paris  with 
the  number  who  were  admitted  before  the  royal  ordi- 
nance of  the  2nd  of  July,  1816  ;  which  instituted  the  new 
system  (secours  a  domicile),  including  a  visitation  of  the 
poor,  by  ladies  and  commissaries.  In  the  first  instance, 
there  were  52,524  families  including  102,806  individuals. 
But  the  new  system  of  charity,  requiring  that  the  cause  of 
the  poverty  should  be  sought  out  and  determined  and 
expressed  in  the  bulletin  of  admission,  has  reduced  the 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  REAL,  INDIGENCE.        29 

number  to  27,762  families,  including  54,371  individuals, — 
although  the  population  of  the  city  has  increased  one 
quarter  during  the  time  between  the  years  1816  and 
1822. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE   POOR. 

A  'good  system  in  the  dispensation  of  charity 
supposes  three  conditions.  First,  that  the  as- 
sistance be  proportioned,  in  its  quantity,  to  the 
extent  of  the  wants  ;  secondly,  that  it  be  appro- 
priate in  its  kind,  to  the  nature  of  these  wants  ; 
thirdly,  that,  in  its  continuation,  it  be  measured 
by  the  duration  of  these  same  wants,  and  gradu- 
ated upon  their  fluctuation. 

These  three  conditions  suppose  in  their  turn, 
first,  that  the  situation  of  the  poor  has  been  exactly 
proved  ;  secondly,  that  the  extent  of  the  poverty 
is  known  ;  and,  thirdly,  that  the  nature  of  the 
wants  and  their  fluctuations  have  been  ascertained. 

The  great  secret  of  charity  is  the  art  of  propor- 
tioning it  to  the  necessities  of  poverty.  After 
having  ascertained  the  reality  of  the  indigence,  it 
is  necessary  to  determine  with  care  its  measure  and 
its  limits.  Without  this,  we  give  at  hazard,  and 
perhaps  assist  those,  who  are  not  in  need,  while 
we  withhold  aid  from   the  suffering.     The  same 


THE   CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  POOR.  31 

care  and  the  same  research  will  be  necessary  in 
this  new  examination  ;  and  this  is  the  second 
function  of  the  visitor  of  the  poor. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  pretended  poverty  is  much 
more  rare,  than  people  are  led  to  think  ;  and  it  is 
decreasing  every  day.  A  natural  taste  for  activity, 
a  certain  frankness  in  our  manners,  the  pride  and 
self-love  which  belong  to  all  classes  of  people, 
serve  as  preservatives  against  this  shameful  de- 
ception. But  nothing  is  so  common  as  to  exagge- 
rate poverty.  And  we  must  not  be  astonished  at 
this  ;  for  he,  who  suffers,  easily  exggerates  his 
own  misery  to  himself,  and  he  exaggerates  it  to 
others  to  excite  pity.  When  the  pressure  of 
poverty  has  once  triumphed  over  the  natural  re- 
pugnance men  feel,  to  the  asking  and  receiving  of 
favors,  they  do  not  blush  to  ask  for  more  than  is 
exactly  necessary. 

Yet,  to  give  to  the  poor  more  than  they  really 
need,  is  nearly  the  same  thing  as  to  give  to  those 
who  are  not  in  need  ;  the  injury  is  of  the  same 
kind,  although  in  a  less  degree. 

This  will  perhaps  appear  harsh,  and  yet  it  is  a 
remark  drawn  from  the  deepest  interest  in  mis- 
fortune. Doubtless  it  is  painful  to  seek  out  the 
limits    of  suffering,  and  scrupulously   to  measure 


6%  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

out  our  bounty.  But  does  not  the  physician  deny 
the  desires  of  his  patient  ?  Does  he  not  impose 
privations  upon  him?  To  do  good  for  one's  own 
gratification,  is  to  be  only  half  benevolent.  Noth- 
ing is  more  just,  than,  that  we  should  be  happy 
in  giving  ;  but  this  pleasure  is  not  the  end  for 
which  we  give,  and  should  not  serve  as  a  rule  and 
measure  to  our  gifts.  It  is  only  one  of  the  re- 
wards of  giving. 

Let  the  visitor  of  the  poor  then  endeavour  to 
form  a  precise  and  clear  idea  of  the  situation  of 
the  poor.  To  this  end,  let  him  take  an  example 
of  a  supposed  case  of  absolute  indigence,  making 
a  distinction  between  the  situation  of  the  complete- 
ly isolated  individual,  and  that  of  a  family  more  or 
less  numerous. 

A  state  of  absolute  indigence,  in  an  individual, 
supposes  him  deprived,  by  infirmity,  of  the  means 
of  performing  any  labor,  having  no  resources  what- 
ever, and  totally  abandoned  by  every  one.  Let 
us  estimate  in  money  what  is  necessary  to  furnish 
to  this  unfortunate  person  his  daily  nourishment, 
the  rent  of  his  dwelling-place,  whatever  it  may  be  ; 
the  preservation  and  renewal  of  his  clothes,  his 
bed,  a  little  fuel  in  winter,  and  necessary  medi- 
cines.    This  sum  will   not  be  precisely  the  same 


THE   CLASSIFICATION   OF  THE  POOR.  33 

for  a  man,  a  woman,  and  a  very  young  orphan. 
This  point  being  established,  it  remains  for  us  to 
deduct  the  resources  of  various  kinds,  which  may 
remain  to  this  unfortunate  individual.  An  old 
man,  although  decrepit,  may  still  execute  some 
work,  or  be  employed  in  taking  care  of  something. 
A  blind  man  has  strength,  which  he  may  use  in 
various  ways.  Those  infirmities,  which  leave  the 
use  of  some  of  the  limbs,  still  admit  of  some  occu- 
pations. He  may  have  a  relation,  a  friend,  or  a 
protector,  who  can  render  him  some  assistance. 
These  deductions  being  made,  we  shall  have  near- 
ly an  exact  knowledge  of  his  wants.  Now  we 
must  be  sure,  that  the  little  work  he  can  do,  is 
offered  him  ;  for  in  this  case  alone  must  the  wages 
of  such  labor  be  deducted  from  the  supposed  sum. 
Otherwise,  the  want  of  labor  must  be  added, 
though  as  a  transient  element,  to  the  sad  list  that 
makes  up    the  sum  total  of  his  necessities. 

After  having  determined  the  condition  of  a  sin- 
gle individual,  we  shall  proceed  in  the  same  man- 
ner in  regard  to  a  family,  applying  a  similar  meas- 
urement to  each  of  the  members  that  compose  it. 
Only  we  should  not  forget,  that  a  whole  family 
spends  less,  when  united,  than  if  each  member  was 
supported    separately.       The    rent    and    fuel    are 


34  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

nearly  the   same  for  several,  as  for  two,  or  even 
for  one. 

We  are  accustomed  to  regard  children  under 
twelve  years  of  age,  as  entirely  a  burden  to  their 
parents.  Yet,  in  fact,  those  under  twelve  years 
of  age  can  render  many  small  services,  and  often 
begin  to  earn  a  few  cents.  When  over  twelve 
years  of  age,  they  should  be  apprenticed  to  some 
regular  business.  The  instruction  by  which  chil- 
dren learn  to  read  and  write,  to  understand  religion 
and  morality,  and  to  learn  how  to  labor,  should  be 
placed  in  the  rank  of  the  most  essential  wants  of 
a  family.  Any  lucrative  occupation,  which  may 
be  an  obstacle  to  this,  would  not  be  a  gain,  but  a 
loss. 

2.  The  extent  of  the  poverty  being  determined, 
shall  we  give  in  money  the  sum  which  corresponds 
to  it  ?  God  forbid  !  Who  will  answer  for  it,  that 
the  poor  would  not  employ  it  in  some  other  way, 
than  that  for  which  it  was  destined,  or  even  make 
it  the  instrument  of  evil  ?  Who  will  answer  for  it, 
that  they  would  not  consume  in  one  day  what  was 
destined  for  a  whole  week  ?  that  even  in  employ- 
ing this  money  for  real  necessities,  they  would  not 
make  the  worst  choice,  and  the  most  injudicious 
purchases  ?     Perhaps,  if  they  had  been  capable  of 


THE   CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE   POOR.  35 

taking  all  necessary  precautions,  they  would  not 
now  be  poor.     It  is  very  easy  to  derange  the  econ- 
omy of  a  life,  limited  to  what  is  barely  necessary. 
There  are  those,  who,  to  make  one  good  dinner, 
will  sometimes  deprive  themselves  of  the  means  of 
clothing  and  fuel  for  the  winter.     Do  we  not  our- 
selves often  sacrifice   the  future  for  the  enjoyment 
of  the  present  moment?     And  can  the  poor  be 
expected  to  be  wiser  than  ourselves, — they,  who 
think  so  little  of  the  future  ?    Besides,  to  give  arti- 
cles of  daily  use,  is  a  perceptible  testimony  of  our 
active  and  tender  solicitude.     The  poor  are  then 
grateful  for   our  gifts,  and  will  be  touched  by  our 
personal  care.    They  are  more  grateful  for  the  latter 
than  for  our  gifts,  for  they  see  in  it  a  sort  of  pa- 
ternal  affection.     If  the  supposed   poor  man  be 
really  poor,  the  sight  of  our  money  would  make 
him  blush.     But  he  will  like  to  say,  "  This  is  the 
bed  I  received  from   his  bounty  ;  "  and  he  will 
recollect  it  every  night,  when  he  prays  to   Him 
who  clothes   the  lily  of  the  field.     Moreover,  to 
provide  for  all  this,  we  must  become  the  confidants 
of  the   poor  family  ;    for  confidence  between  us  is 
as  good  for  him  as  for  ourselves.     Confiding  in  us, 
he  will  naturally  be  led  to  tell  us  every  thing,  and 
to  show  us  every  thing.     He   will   thus  enable  us 


36  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

to    avoid   questions,  which   might  have  an  air  of 
suspicion,  and  would  be   equally  painful   to  both. 
We  shall  be  enabled  to  see   if  he  has  known  how 
to  preserve  the  little  he  possessed  ; .  if  he  has  used 
every  thing   properly.      This  is  not   a  suspicious 
inquisition  ;  it  is  the  privilege  of  sincere  friendship. 
In  short,  we  shall  know  how  to  discern  and  recog- 
nise   the   kind,   the   quality,   the  value,   and    the 
duration  of  the   articles,  which   the  poor  man  con- 
sumes, and  which  are   the  best   for  his  use.     We 
shall  then   make   up  his  little  budget  upon  a  posi- 
tive basis,  and  have  a  certain  degree  of  judgment 
about   his   real   necessities,  and   thus   learn   better 
how  to   observe   other  poor  people,  to  understand 
what   they  need,  and   guard   ourselves   from  those 
chance  estimations,  which  would  expose  us  to  give  * 
too   much,   or  to    refuse   what    is    indispensable. 
Thus  a  second  calculation  will  be  made,  designating 
each   necessary  article,  the  quantity  and  the  kind  ; 
and  giving  a  general  idea  of  the  rent,  the  bed,  the 
linen,  the    dress,   shoes  and  stockings,    &c.       In 
winter  we  must   add  fuel.     This   is  necessary  for 
all.     Then  if  he  is  sick,  he  will  require  medicines, 
dressings   for  wounds,   and   suitable    food.       If  in 
health  he  will  need  nourishment,  regulated  accord- 
ing to  his  age,  sex,  modes  of  life  and  labor. 


THE  CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  POOR.  37 

•  But,  as  we  have  said  before,  perhaps  what  the 
poor  man  wants  is  labor,  or  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
labor.  This  is  a  new  subject  of  observation. 
What  profession  has  he  followed  ?  Why  does  it 
not  afford  him  more  resources  ?  Would  it  not  be 
possible  to  restore  them  to  him?  What  would 
be  the  means  of  restoring  them  ?  If  this  is  not 
practible,  what  other  occupation  is  there,  of 
which  he  would  be  found  capable?  And  how 
can  it  be  procured  for  him  ?  In  either  case,  what 
profits  may  be  expected  from  it  ?  Can  he  work 
away  from  home,  or  only  at  his  own  lodgings  ? 

3.  Thus  our  two  first  tables  are  drawn  up  ; 
and  the  real  state  of  the  poor  is  well  known. 
But  it  is  only  for  the  moment.  Now,  every  thing 
changes.  The  sick  man  is  reestablished  in  health, 
and  the  healthy  man  falls  sick.  The  portion  of 
labor,  from  which  the  poor  man  hitherto  drew  a 
little  profit,  fails  him.  A  child  comes  into  exis- 
tence and  has  wants.  Then,  again,  the  child 
grows  up,  and  is  able  to  assist  his  parents.  The 
family  increases  still  further,  or  it  loses  one  of 
its  members.  A  rigorous  season  comes  on,  and 
disconcerts  all  calculations.  Now,  if  we  continue 
blindly  the  same  mode  and  degree  of  assistance, 
what  will  happen?  When  external  aid  ceases 
4 


38  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

to  be  necessary,  and  yet  is  continued,  it  indisposes 
its  objects  to  avail  themselves  of  their  own  re- 
sources. It  excites  them  to  abuse  our  facility  of 
kindness,  and  shuts  up  the  path,  through  which 
they  should  have  been  led  to  activity  and  inde- 
pendence. When,  on  the  other  hand,  the  aid  is 
insufficient,  and  no  longer  bears  any  proportion  to 
actual  wants,  we  are,  in  truth,  though  uncon- 
sciously, cruel,  and  even  deceive  the  confidence 
which  we  had  authorized  them  to  feel  in  us.  In 
either  case,  we  fail  of  the  true  end. 

To  continue  thus  to  note  the  history  of  the 
little  revolutions  in  the  existence  of  the  poor, 
constancy  and  perseverance  are  doubtless  neces- 
sary. And  perhaps  this  is  what  is  most  difficult 
in  the  duties  imposed  upon  the  visitor  of  the  poor, 
and  what  is  most  rarely  accomplished.  Yet  it 
is  the  necessary  condition  of  making  charity  use- 
ful. The  frequent  family  changes  among  the 
poor  have  serious  inconveniences.  Hardly  do 
you  make  acquaintance  with  a  family  before  it 
escapes  you.  You  had  wished  in  your  foresight 
to  make  preparations  for  the  future,  but  you  are 
not  able  to  see  the  effect  of  what  you  do.  This 
family  may  meet  with  another  benefactor;  but 
he  may  not  be  able  to  enter  into  your  plans. 


THE   CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  POOR.  39 

Has   the  visitor  of  the   poor  at  last  terminated 
his  long  and   painful   examination  ?     But   he  has 
not   exhausted  the  sources   of  inquiry.     He   has 
yet  observed  only  the  outside.     It  remains  for  him 
to  penetrate  the  most    intimate    secrets.       What 
then  must  he  do  ?     Listen.     Seated  at  the  bed- 
side of  a  sick  man,  I  sought  to  give  him  support 
and    encouragement   in    his    sufferings.      A   deep 
sigh,  which  escaped  him,  gave  me  new  doubts  and 
anxieties.      I    questioned,  and    urged    him.      He 
was  silent.     I   spoke  to  him  in  the   language  of 
affection.     He  was  melted.     I  pressed  his  hand, 
and  his  tears  flowed.     Ah  !   his  health  was  indeed 
impaired  ;    but  it  was  grief,  which  had  destroyed 
it.     For  a  long  time  he  had  shut  up  in  silence  the 
pains,  which  oppressed  his  heart.     A  failure  had 
carried  away  the  fruits  of  his  economy.     A  friend 
had  deceived  his  confidence.    He  found  himself  en- 
cumbered with  the  debts  of  others.     He  had  sold 
every  thing  to  save  his  honor,  and  fulfil  his  engage- 
ments ;  —  sold  every  thing,  even  to  the  implements 
of  the  trade  at  which  he  worked  day  and  night  to 
maintain  his  family.     He  had  concealed  from  his 
beloved  family  these    terrible  secrets  ;  and   while 
his  children  played  around  him,   he  shuddered  at 
the   idea  of  seeing  them  die  of  hunger.     He  had 


40  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

deprived  himself  of  every  thing,  and  feeding  only 
upon  tears,  in  order  to  give  to  these  unfortunate  lit- 
tle ones  the  last  morsel  of  bread  which  remained 
to  him,  at  last  he  sunk  under  the  weight  of  sadness. 
"  Alas  !  "  said  I,  "  why  did  you  not  tell  me  soon- 
er ?  I  will  restore  this  trade  to  you !  you  are  not 
alone  and  abandoned  upon  earth  ;  all  hearts  are 
not  closed  to  you  ;  you  have  found  a  false  friend, 
you  shall  now  find  faithful  ones  ;  "  a  ray  of  joy 
pierced  the  cloud,  and  he  was  restored  to  life. 

Another  unfortunate  one,  whom  I  wish  to  re- 
lieve, seems  to  fear,  and  to  fly  from  me.  In  the 
midst  of  his  pressing  misfortunes,  he  seems  to 
tremble  at  the  prospect  of  an  unknown  evil. 
What  is  the  matter?  He  wishes  to  expatriate 
himself.  Why  ?  Perhaps  he  is  persecuted  by  a 
powerful  man,  or  exposed  to  the  hatred  or  ven- 
geance of  an  enemy.  Perhaps  a  lawsuit,  which 
he  cannot  follow  out,  completes  his  ruin,  when 
the  just  triumph  of  his  rights  would  give  him  an 
honorable  competency.  I  discover  his  danger. 
He  paints  to  me  all  the  strength  his  oppressors 
have  to  injure  him ;  all  the  violence  of  the  ani- 
mosity, of  which  he  is  the  victim.  "  If  your 
cause  is  so  just,"  I  tell  him,  "  I  will  embrace 
it,   and  will  find  you  support.       Far  from    being 


THE   CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  POOR.  41 

terrified  by  obstacles,  I  shall  only  be  the  more 
proud  and  happy  to  defend  you."  He  returns  to 
a  feeling  of  security  and  is  saved.  —  Another 
announces  in  his  manners  and  his  language,  a 
Careful  education  ;  but  he  has  never  spoken  of  his 
family.  I  have  touched  upon  the  subject,  and 
found  that  it  was  a  painful  one  to  him.  But  by 
my  researches  I  find  out,  that  a  near  relation,  a 
nephew,  a  brother,  perhaps,  are  in  easy  circum- 
stances, and  have  treated  him  with  contempt 
since  the  days  of  his  misfortune  ;  blushing  for  the 
ties  which  unite  them  to  him,  when  the  only  shame 
which  ought  to  have  covered  their  brow,  was  for 
such  indifference  !  What  did  I  say  ?  That  para- 
lytic old  man,  that  infirm  woman,  has  a  son  or  a 
daughter,  who  has  a  lucrative  business,  is  dressed 
with  elegance,  enjoys  various  pleasures,  yet  thus 
neglects  the  positive  duties,  which  the  most  sa- 
cred rights  of  nature  impose.  Is  it  possible  ? 
Alas,  it  is  but  too  true !  We  see  too  many  ex- 
amples of  unfortunate  people,  whom  the  cruel 
indifference  and  selfishness  of  their  families  thus 
abandon  to  public  charity.  I  go  to  these  unnatu- 
ral relations,  and  succeed,  perhaps,  in  moving 
them.  They  repent,  and  repair  their  faults  to- 
wards those,  whom  their  abandonment  rendered 
4* 


42  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR, 

more  unhappy  than  any  privations.  And,  if  I 
fail  in  this,  if  their  hearts  are  inflexible,  I  have 
another  resource,  the  fear  of  authority  ;  and  the 
tribunal  of  justice,  if  it  cannot  restore  affection, 
can,  at  least,  bring  forth  the  assistance  which  is 
due. 

Let  the  generous  beware  of  thinking  that  they 
have  fulfilled  the  honorable  career  of  charity, 
when  they  have  made  an  inventory  of  the  exter- 
nal necessities  and  resources  which  are  to  be  sup- 
plied ;  or  when  they  have  provided  an  asylum, 
furnished  a  garment,  or  given  nourishment.  There 
is  a  necessity  still  more  touching,  and  more  diffi- 
cult. Penetrate  the  secret  of  that  afflicted  heart. 
By  giving  inward  peace,  you  will  do  more  than 
by  appeasing  hunger.  By  restoring  moral  energy, 
you  will  give  the  courage  to  perform  useful  labor, 
and  better  to  support  privation  and  suffering.  By 
enlightening  the  reason,  and  reestablishing  order 
in  a  mind  which  distress  had  disturbed,  you  will 
prepare  it  for  the  cares  of  order  and  economy. 
Your  consolations  and  counsels  will  be  of  more 
worth,  perhaps,  than  all  your  gifts.  Are  not  the 
miseries  of  the  soul  real  miseries  ?  And  should 
charity  be  indifferent  to  them  ?  Perhaps  these 
revelations   will  be  doubly  painful  to  you  !     Per- 


THE  CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  POOR.  43 

haps  the  unfortunate  one  has  been  the  victim  of 
his  own  faults  !  Then  you  are  called  upon  to  cure 
him  of  his  vices,  which  are  ruining  him,  or,  at  least, 
to  attempt  their  cure.  For  this  work  new  light 
will  be  necessary  to  you. 

These  things  are  all  which  it  is  necessary  to 
discover,  and  to  note  down.  Perhaps,  you  must 
also  be  silent  as  to  the  result  of  your  discoveries ; 
and  your  discretion  will  be  another  portion  of  your 
^beneficence. 

But;  does  poverty  always  freely  expose  itself? 
and  is  not  the  poverty,  which  seeks  concealment, 
much  the  most  respectable  ?  Doubtless.  A  feel- 
ing of  inquietude  takes  possession  of  me,  for  near 
me  dwells  a  whole  family,  shut  up  in  a  narrow 
nook.  I  do  not  see  them  go  in  and  out,  their  ex- 
istence is  hardly  suspected.  I  meet  one  of  the 
children  of  this  family  ;  he  is  sobbing.  Some  bro- 
ken words  alarm  me.  I  caress  him,  but  he  repul- 
ses and  leaves  me.  I  find  my  way  to  his  parents, 
and  I  learn  all.  The  vicisitudes  of  time  have  de- 
prived the  father  of  some  subaltern  post  he  occu- 
pied, and  he  has  in  vain  sought  to  make  himself 
useful.  He  is  too  old  to  be  apprenticed  to  a  trade, 
and  he  has  exhausted  all  he  possessed.  In  the 
hope  of  recovering  his  place,  he    has  taken  upon 


44  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

credit,  wherewith  to  maintain  his  family.  The  cred- 
itor comes,  and  they  show  him  their  empty  house. 
He  is  irritated.  O,  why  did  I  not  know  sooner  ?  Yes- 
terday I  had  an  opportunity  to  procure  an  occupa- 
tion for  this  honest  man.  Again,  here  is  a  woman 
absolutely  alone  in  the  world.  Her  dress  is  decent, 
but  her  existence  is  mysterious.  There  is  dignity 
in  her  mien,  and  sadness  upon  her  brow.  How  is 
she  employed  ?  and  where  does  she  come  from  ? 
I  inquire,  and  I  find  that  she  is  a  widow.  Her 
husband  followed,  with  uprightness  and  diligent,  a 
humble  employment,  upon  the  profits  of  which 
they  both  lived.  He  had  a  prospect  of  advance- 
ment, but  death  came  before  he  could  obtain  it, 
and  he  left  her  pennyless.  The  unfortunate  wo- 
man is  absorbed  in  grief  for  her  loss,  and  hardly 
knows  that  she  will  not  have  the  means  of  surviving 
him.  Anonymous  aid  must  relieve  her  misery, 
while  it  spares  her  delicacy. 

In  the  tables,  we  were  about  to  draw  up,  we 
omitted  then  an  essential  distinction  ;  that  of  the 
indigent  who  beg,  and  the  indigent  who  seek  con- 
cealment. We  omitted  a  circumstance,  which 
ought  to  add  still  more  to  our  interest  and  respect, 
that  sense  of  character,  which  noble  minds  pre- 
serve under  the  weight  of  misfortune. 


THE   CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  POOR.  45 

In  the  dispensation  of  relief  to  the  poor,  we  had 
also  almost  forgotten  a  kind  of  charity,  peculiar  to 
certain  situations  ;  such  as  recommendations  to 
kindness,  and  personal  influence  with  others. 

This  leads  us  to  the  last  order  of  considerations, 
which  will  be  particularly  important  to  the  visitor 
of  the  poor. 

To  appreciate  truly  the  circumstances  of  an  un- 
fortunate family,  it  is  not  sufficient  to  examine 
their  present  necessities.  It  is  well  also  to  ascer- 
tain their  previous  condition.  Privations  are  much 
more  felt  by  those  who  have  fallen  from  easy  circum- 
stances, and  certain  conveniences  become  almost 
necessaries  of  life  by  the  long  habit  of  enjoying 
them.  All  this  increases,  and  becomes  more  im- 
perious, in  old  age.  More  than  all,  the  mental 
suffering,  which  is  joined  to  physical  suffering,  is 
in  proportion  to  the  difference  between  the  former 
and  subsequent  condition. 

I  have  found  among  the  names  of  the  indigent, 
inscribed  upon  the  list  of  my  charity  office,  wid- 
ows of  officers,  of  notaries,  and  of  merchants  ; 
daughters  of  old  magistrates,  of  advocates,  and  of 
literary  men  ;  artists  and  retired  officers,  who  have 
been  inmates  of  the  hospitals.  For  what  class  is 
not  open  to  the  blows  of  adversity  ?    The  educa- 


46  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

tion  which    these  persons  have  received,   and  the 
situation  which    they  have  occupied  in  society, 
render  them  naturally  more   susceptible,   and  de- 
mand also  of  the  visitor  more  discretion    and  con- 
sideration.   In  such  circumstances  it  will  be  neces- 
sary  to  modify  the  choice   and  extent  of  the  of- 
fered assistance.     Sometimes,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  abandon  the  wise  and  useful  rule,  which  in  gen- 
eral   proscribes    any    other    assistance,   than    the 
bestowment    of  articles    of  comfort ;    and  it   will 
become  necessary  to  show  to  sufferers  from  such 
reverses,    a  just  confidence,  by   leaving  to  them 
the  free  use  of  the  money,   we  induce   them  to 
accept.     We  cannot  repeat  it  too  often,   that  in 
this  matter,  as  in  many  others,  there  are   no  abso- 
lute   rules.      All    is  relative.      General    formulas 
may  serve  as  land-marks,  but  they  are  not  rules  to 
which  we  can  blindly  refer  all   particular  cases. 
The  more  nearly  the  visitor  of  the  poor  approach^ 
es  those  to  whom  he  is  sent,  the  more  will  he  be 
struck  with  this  difference.     Objects  are  only  con- 
founded to  the  eyes  of  those,  who  see  afar  off,  and 
therefore  only  see  very  imperfectly. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


VIRTUES  OF  THE  POOR. 


The  spectacle  of  human  miseries  contempla- 
ted closely,  and  considered  with  an  attentive  and 
reflecting  eye,  is  one  of  the  most  painful  sources 
of  moral  instruction,  which  can  be  opened  to  us 
on  earth.  But  still  higher  instructions  spring 
from  it,  when  we  see  virtue  triumph  in  the  midst 
of  these  same  miseries.  Then  alone  we  learn  to 
know  all  the  sublimity  of  its  heroism,  all  the 
extent  of  its  power. 

What  are  the  virtues  of  those  who  live  in  ease, 
and  in  the  bosom  of  select  society,  endowed  with 
all  the  benefits  of  education,  surrounded  by  a 
respect  and  a  consideration  which  we  learn  to  re- 
gard as  necessary  elements  of  our  existence  in  the 
world  ?  Do  they  really  deserve  the  name  of  vir- 
tues ?  Where  is  the  merit  of  them  ?  What  are 
the  efforts  they  require  ?  Shall  we  dare  to  boast 
of  our  common  honesty  ?  Can  any  one  be  -  as- 
tonished that  we  do  not  fall  into  the  low  and  de- 
grading actions,  which  would  make  us  despised  ? 


48  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

Shall  we  call  ourselves  benevolent,  when  the  gifts 
we  bestow  do  not  cost  us  a  single  privation  ? 
Shall  we  believe  ourselves  good,  because  we  are 
amiable,  while  every  one  around  us  is  eager  to 
serve  and  please  us  ?  And  yet  it  is  this  shadow 
of  virtue,  which  is  encouraged  by  applauses  and 
rewarded  by  eulogies,  and  promotes  our  success 
and  advancement  in  the  world.  Let  us  rather 
remember  those  unknown  virtues,  which  the  man- 
tle of  poverty  and  obscurity  hides ;  and  blush  at 
the  esteem  we  receive. 

With  the  poor  and  miserable  every  thing  be- 
comes an  opportunity  of  a  virtue  that  is  really 
and  with  difficulty  acquired.  Overwhelmed  at 
once  by  reverses  of  fortune,  and  the  disdain 
of  the  rich ;  exiled,  as  it  were,  from  society,  and 
the  banquet  of  life ;  banished  as  if  to  a  desert, 
even  in  the  midst  of  cities,  by  the  abandonment 
in  which  he  is  left,  the  poor  man  sees  every  thing 
conspire  against  him.  Every  thing  seems  hostile, 
and  the  most  legitimate  affections  of  nature  be- 
come a  source  of  suffering  to  his  heart.  Yet 
spleen  and  bitterness  do  not  take  possession  of 
him.  He  is  not  irritated  by  events.  He  does 
not  accuse  men.  He  does  not  murmur  against 
Providence.     On  the  contrary,  he  submits.     He 


VIRTUES   OF  THE   POOR.  49 

accepts  the  terrible  lot,  which  is  assigned  him  here 
below,  and  is  resigned  to  it.  His  is  a  resignation 
wonderful  in  its  peaceful  silence,  and  of  which 
we  perhaps  should  not  be  capable,  if  we  were 
thrown  into  the  same  condition  !  It  is  a  resigna- 
tion which  supposes  a  courage  more  difficult,  and 
more  rare,  than  brilliant  valor.  It  is  a  courage 
constant  and  equable,  renewing  every  day  and 
every  instant  under  new  wants  and  privations, 
on  which  no  hope  gleams  in  the  future,  and  in 
which  the  most  dreadful  extremities  are  to  be 
feared.  There  is  not  perhaps  on  earth  a  virtue 
more  necessary,  more  painful  to  practise,  and 
at  the  same  time  more  glorious,  even  in  its  obscu- 
rity, than  patience.  And  it  is  in  the  asylum  of  the 
poor,  that  models  of  this  virtue  may  be  studied. 
It  is  often  to  this  sanctuary  that  we  must  go,  to 
contemplate  it  in  all  its  sublimity.  I  confess, 
that  it  is  sweet  to  me  to  find  this  opportunity  to 
satisfy  an  urgent  desire  of  my  heart,  to  acquit,  I 
might  almost  say,  a  sort  of  debt,  by  being  able  to 
render  homage  to  those  touching  virtues,  of  which 
the  world  has  no  suspicion.  I  would  it  were  pos- 
sible for  me  to  show  them  living,  to  those  who 
read  this  recital ;  and  that  they  might  partake  the 
profound  emotion  they  inspire  in  myself. 
5 


50  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

I  have  seen  a  wellborn  young  lady,  whom  the 
reverses  of  her  family  had  plunged  into  indigence, 
after  having  been  reduced  for  subsistence  to  the 
labor  of  her  hands,  attacked  by  a  cancer.  She 
suffered  acute  pains.  Every  thing  failed  her. 
She  had  not  even  linen,  with  which  to  dress  her 
wounds.  She  had  not  even  a  bed  to  repose  upon 
in  her  agony.  She  saw  her  malady  increase  from 
day  to  day,  and  she  felt  that  her  strength  was 
declining.  She  had  no  other  prospect  of  relief, 
than  the  tomb  open  to  receive  her.  But  not  a 
complaint  escaped  her  lips.  Her  countenance 
was  serene  and  gentle,  and  her  calmness  was  not 
impaired  a  single  moment,  till  the  hour  of  her 
release.* 

I  have  seen  also  a  mother  of  six  children  ex- 
tended night  and  day  upon  a  little  straw  in  a  gar- 
ret, with  a  fatal  ulcer,  which  was  destroying  her, 
and  not  able  to  give  bread  to  those  poor  little 
beings,  who  were  weeping  around  her.  In  her 
own  husband  too,  who  ought  to  have  been  her 
consolation  and  support,  she  had  an  additional 
subject  of  cutting  sorrow ;    and  she  was  thus  sup- 

*  This  sufferer  was  Mademoiselle  Blais,  who  died  March 
10, 1825. 


VIRTUES   OF  THE  POOR.  51 

porting,  at  the  same  time,  the   sufferings  of  body 
and  soul.     But  she  supported  them  with  an  unal- 
terable sweetness,   pardoning  even  the  unworthy 
husband    who    aggravated    her    woes    instead    of 
relieving  them  ;  and  who  abused  the  succours  des- 
tined   for   her,    and    consumed   them    himself    in 
drunkenness.     I  have   seen  aged,  infirm,  and  for- 
saken widows,  occupying  a  nook  so  low  and  nar- 
row, that  one  could  scarce  enter  it,  and  having  no 
other  light  than  what  came   from  the   stair-case, 
and  there  waiting  the  immense   favor  of  entering 
into  a  hospital  ;  (for  such  is  the  great  and  supreme 
ambition  ;  such  the  object  of  the  wishes  of  a  great 
number.)     And,  alas,  how  many  desire   it  in  vain, 
and  cannot  obtain  it !     I  have  seen  miseries  which 
pass  all  belief,  and  physical  tortures,  united  with 
the   most    pressing  wants  and    the    most  painful 
privations  ;    and  all  these   endured  by  martyrs   of 
patience,  without  aid,  hope,  or  witness,  submitting 
to  the  divine  will.    Where  are   crowns  worthy  of 
such   triumphs  ?     What  tenderness  mingles  with 
our  respect,  when  we  think,  that  the  beings  called 
to  display   such  courage,  are  feeble  women,  and 
old  men  already  exhausted  by  long  trials. 

The  too  common   effect  of  suffering  and  priva- 
tion is  to  cool  the  heart,  and  incline  it  to  selfish- 


52  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

ness.       We  too  often   see   sad   examples   of   this 
among  persons,  who  have  received  a  careful  edu- 
cation.    How  highly  then  should   we   regard,   in 
the  indigent,  the   affections  which   they  preserve, 
when,  instead  of  being   soured   by   adversity,  in- 
stead  of  being  absorbed  by  the   feeling   of   their 
own  wa  ts,  they  still  know  how  to  live  for  others, 
and  in  others  !   How  powerful  and  beautiful  must  be 
this  faculty  of  loving,  which  can  survive  such  dis- 
tress !  In  some  families  of  the  indigent,  you  will  see 
the  most  touching  examples  of  conjugal  love,  and  of 
all  the  domestic  affections;  you  will  see  mothers 
refusing  themselves   every  thing,  in  order  to  sup- 
port their  children,    and   widows  who  cannot  be 
consoled  for  the  loss   of  their  husbands.     Lately 
we  have  been  witnesses  of  a  touching  struggle  be- 
tween an  aged   mother  and  her  daughter,  herself 
the  mother   of  a  numerous  family.     The  mother 
had    asked    to    be    received   into    a  hospital,  and 
insisted  upon  obtaining  this  favor,  in  order  not  to 
be  a  burden,  in   her  last  days,  with  the  infirmities 
she  foresaw  for  herself,  to   a  family  already  very 
much  straitened.     The   daughter  warmly  solicited 
a  refusal  for  her  mother,  desiring   to  take  care  of 
her  herself,  when   this  care  should  become  neces- 
sary ;  and  only  counting  as  pleasures,   the   sacri- 


VIRTUES  OF  THE  POOR.  53 

fices  which  she  imposed  upon  herself,  to  fulfil  this 
pious  duty. 

An  old  soldier,  made  infirm  by  his  wounds,  with 
his  wife  and  numerous  children,  had  been  taken 
home  by  a  simple  workman,  the  brother-in-law  of 
the  wife,  who  shared  with  them  the  fruits  of  his 
labor.  This  estimable  man  was  killed.  A  few 
crowns  only  remained  to  these  poor  people  ;  and 
they  consecrated  them  to  the  procuring  of  a  dis- 
tinct grave,  to  receive  the  mortal  remains  of  their 
benefactor,  over  which  they  often  go  to  pray  in 
memory  of  him.# 

Who  would  think  it  ?  In  the  midst  of  poverty, 
a  poor  man  still  finds  means  to  give,  and  takes 
pleasure  in  giving.  He  gives,  —  what  ?  He 
gives  his  time ;  that  time,  which  we  often  make 
him  waste  unnecessarily.  He  gives  his  time  and 
cares  to  other  unfortunate  beings,  and  sacrifices  to 
them  a  portion  of  the  labor,  from  which  he  expects 

*  This  workman,  hardly  twenty-five  years  old,  and 
whose  life,  though  short,  was  so  admirable,  was  killed  in 
Paris  by  a  drunken  soldier  with  a  sabre,  having  gone  into 
the  midst  of  a  scuffle  to  draw  one  of  his  friends  out  of  it. 
His  name  was  Monjoidin,  born  at  the  village  of  St  Cyr. 
His  brother-in-law  is  named  Leprince,  and  now  lires  at 
Paris. 

5* 


54  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

all  his  subsistence.  Sometimes  he  even  shares 
the  charity  he  has  received.  One  lends  his  arm 
to  a  cripple,  another  watches  by  the  bed  of  a  sick 
man.  I  know  a  woman,  who,  at  the  age  of  eighty, 
no  longer  able  to  walk,  spins  with  a  trembling 
hand  ;  and  having  no  other  resource,  gives  hos- 
pitality in  the  little  closet  she  occupies,  to  another 
poor  person,  who  has  neither  abode  nor  asylum.* 
I  know  another,  who  received  into  his  own  bed,  a 
friend  afflicted  with  a  terrible  ulcer,  and  continued 
the  exercise  of  self-devotion  during  the  whole 
course  of  a  long  malady,  till  the  day  her  compan- 
ion descended  into  the  tomb.  I  know  the  moth- 
er of  a  family,  who  succeeds  in  being,  as  it  were, 
a  sister  of  charity  to  other  unfortunate  women, 
lodged  in   the  same  house,  because  she  preserves 

*  Madame  Lenoir,  rue  Guisarde. —  We  could  name 
many  others,  and  even  without  quitting  this  little  street. 
We  ask  permission  to  quote  names  sometimes  ;  for  we  are 
not  composing1  a  fictitious  story.  We  relate  real  facts,  of 
which  we  might  give  numerous  examples.  We  particu- 
larize them,  in  order  that  they  may  be  verified.  We  do 
not  fear  being  thought  indiscreet;  for  these  good  peo- 
ple will  never  read  the  book  where  their  names  are  writ- 
ten. Is  there  not  some  use  in  drawing  virtues  like  these 
from  the  profound  obscurity  in  which  they  are  buried  ? 


VIRTUES    OF    THE    POOR.  55 

her  health  and  strength,  and  the  others  are  sick. 
She  watches  with  them,  lifts  them,  takes  care  of 
them,  does  errands  for  them,  and  in  asking  for  her 
companions,  forgets  to  ask  for  herself. 

What  a  value  have  gifts  and  sacrifices  in  cir- 
cumstances like  these  ?  Celestial  charity  !  With 
what  lustre  does  she  appear,  when  she  creates  a 
power  of  being  useful,  amidst  absolute  want,  bely- 
ing the  maxim,  that  we  do  not  give  when  we  have 
not  I  —  How  well  did  He  know  the  secrets  of  vir- 
tue, who  ranked  the  widow's  mite  above  the  lar- 
gesses of  the  rich  ? 

The  poor  are  sometimes  accused  of  being  un- 
grateful. Let  us  look  at  this  accusation.  Have 
we  ourselves  no  share  in  the  guilt  of  this  ingrati- 
tude, when,  for  the  gifts  which  might  touch  the 
heart,  we  have  substituted  alms  which  humble  the 
spirit ;  or,  when,  in  the  assistance  we  have  granted, 
the  poor  man  saw  a  concession  torn  from  us  by  im- 
portunity, rather  than  the  spontaneous  impulse  of 
true  sympathy  ?  It  is  heart  alone  which  merits 
a  return  of  heart.  True  generosity  is  an  emanation 
of  love  ;  and  the  gratitude  it  excites,  receives  its  no- 
blest character,  by  becoming  also  the  reward  of  love. 
If  the  poor  man  sees  that  you  have  been  moved  and 
affected  by  his  condition,  if  his  soul   has  entered 


56  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

into  communion  with  yours,  he  will  know  how  to 
repay  you  with  his  affections  a  hundred  fold,  for 
the  little  which  you  have  done  for  him !  What  fa- 
vors could  ever  purchase  that  look  of  the  unfortu- 
nate, which  beams  with  new  life  at  the  presence 
of  his  benefactor ;  those  eyes  which  are  fixed  on 
him  full  of  tenderness,  confidence,  and  respect ; 
those  prayers  sent  to  heaven  for  his  safety,  when 
he  is  in  danger  ? 

A  poor  woman,  the  mother  of  a  family,  whose 
husband  had  been  killed  at  the  opera,  had  the  mis- 
fortune lately  to  be  made  a  cripple  for  the  rest  of 
her  days.  A  carriage  passed  over  her  body.  As 
she  was  going  out  of  the  hospital,  with  the  assis- 
tance of  her  crutches,  some  one  spoke  to  her  of 
her  fatal  accident.  She  only  answered  by  cele- 
brating the  goodness  of  a  family  which  had  come 
to  her  assistance  when  the  accident  took  place, 
and  had  promised  her  the  relief  and  assistance  of 
which  she  might  stand  in  need ;  and  the  benedic- 
tions, with  which  she  loaded  this  family,  shed  over 
the  features  of  this  unfortunate  woman  a  sort  of 
gentle  and  serene  joy.  She  seemed  actually  to  be 
made  happy  by  her  gratitude  !  How  I  should  have 
desired  that  the  family,  which   was   the  object  of 


VIRTUES    OF    THE    POOR.  57 

this  sentiment,  had  been  present  to  hear  the  touch- 
ing expression  of  it.# 

We  require  that  the  poor  man  should  be  moved 
by  a  deep  sentiment  of  gratitude,  when  he  re- 
ceives the  bounty  which  we  extend  to  him,  per- 
haps with  coldness  and  disdain.  But  we  do  not 
take  account  of  that  uncontaminated  honesty 
to  which  he  remains  faithful  in  the  midst  of  the 
wants  which  press  upon  him.  Should  we  not  give 
him  credit  when,  a  witness  of  the  abundance  in  which 
we  live,  and  the  luxury  which  surrounds  us,  he 
gives  envy  no  access  to  his  heart.  At  least,  let  us 
be  able  to  acknowledge  how  honorable  is  that 
scrupulous  delicacy,  of  which  he  often  affords  us  the 
example  !  We  frequently  observe  a  certain  reserve 
in  his  demands,  from  the  fear  of  being  indiscreet, 
or  of  diminishing  the  part  reserved  for  his  com- 
panions in  misfortune.  Among  the  convalescent 
that  leave  the  hospital  of  Paris,  who,  by  the  very 
way  in  which  they  live  there,  show  plainly,  that 
their  situation  is  not  destitute,  half  will  not  ask  to 
participate  in  the  Montyon  Legacy,  and  many  refuse 
this  assistance  even  when  it  is  offered  them.  A 
laboring   woman  seventy-two  years  of  age,  having 

*  This  family  was  that  of  Dr.   R.,   physician  of  l'Hotel 
Dieu  in  Paris. 


58  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

been  sick  all  winter,  had  exhausted  her  last  re- 
sources, and  had  placed  at  the  Mont  de  Piete,  all 
her  effects,  even  to  her  bed.  She  did  not  reveal 
the  secret  of  her  distress  till  just  before  the  end 
of  two  quarters'  rent,  when  she  acknowledged,  that 
she  could  not  discharge  it  by  her  labor.  Let  us  ren- 
der homage  to  this  sense  of  character,  which  main- 
tains itself  in  the  bosom  of  so  much  humiliation, 
and  which  knows  how  to  preserve  the  sentiment  of 
the  common  dignity  of  our  nature  ;  and  let  us  be 
grateful  to  it  for  reminding  us  of  the  respect  due  to 
it,  and  the  especial  respect  due  to  misfortune, 
when  we  were  about  to  forget  it ! 

Do  not  let  any  one  mistake  the  object  of  the 
considerations  which  occupy  us  here.  We  do  not 
pretend  to  maintain,  that  virtue  is  more  frequent 
among  the  poor  than  among  the  rich.  We  limit 
ourselves  to  the  assertion,  that  virtue  is  at  least 
much  more  frequent  among  the  former,  than  is  gen- 
erally suspected  at  the  usual  distance  from  the 
theatre  of  observation.  We  intend  above  all  to 
make  it  felt,  that  virtue,  in  the  lower  conditions  of 
life,  is  much  more  real,  and  therefore  more  merito- 
rious, and  more  worthy  of  admiration.  For  in 
the  first  place,  as  we  have  just  seen,  its  practice  is 
much  more    difficult ;    and   again,    circumstances 


VIRTUES    OF    THE    POOR.  59 

seem  to  lend  to  beings  placed  in  this  situation  less 
strength  for  the   struggle,  of  which    virtue  is  the 
prize.     In  most  cases  they  have  received  but  a  very 
defective   education ;  they  have  participated  less 
than  ourselves  in  the   exercises  calculated  to  de- 
velope  the  moral  sentiments,  and  in  the  knowledge, 
which  instructs  us  in  our  duties,  and  reveals  to  us 
the  advantages  attached  to  the  accomplishment  of 
these  duties.     In  the  solitude  to  which  they  are 
condemned,  they  are  hardly  supported  by  exam- 
ples, encouraged  by  exhortations,  guided  by  coun- 
sels, or  animated   by   the    sweets    of  friendship. 
They  have  not  that  resource,   which   comes   in  so 
many  ways  to  charm  and  temper  our  griefs,  name- 
ly, the  power  of  turning  away  the  mind  from  their 
circumstances.      Nothing    diverts  them   from   the 
sorrows    which    prey   upon    them.      Every  thing 
around  them  has  a  gloomy  and  sombre  tint,  and  is 
in  sorrowful  harmony  with  their  situation.     Their 
very  abode  often  resembles  a  dungeon.     They  are 
not,  like  us,  assisted  by  the  power  of  opinion,  and 
constrained  by  the  presence  of  spectators   to  pre- 
serve an  honorable  appearance.     They  must  draw 
from  themselves    alone  the  strength  which  they 
need.     Having  nothing  to  expect  from  without, 
they  have  only  their  own  consciences  for  witnesses. 


60  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

Yet  let  us  not  exaggerate.  Some  of  the  cir- 
cumstances we  have  enumerated,  have  their  ad- 
vantages. It  is  the  very  habit  of  suffering  priva- 
tions, a  habit  which  has  tempered  their  souls, 
which  has  accustomed  them  to  command  them- 
selves. Besides,  they  belong  generally  to  the  class 
which  supposes  assiduous  and  painful  labor.  Now 
labor  is  in  itself  a  very  salutary  preparation  for  the 
practice  of  virtue,  disposing  man  to  order,  perse- 
verance, and  temperance.  It  is  a  sort  of  moral 
gymnastics,  accustoming  the  creature  to  walk  with 
docility  in  the  way  marked  out  by  the  Creator,  and 
to  look  upon  himself  as  the  instrument  of  the  will  of 
Heaven.  But  these  advantages  of  the  unfortu- 
nate do  not  take  from  their  title  to  esteem ;  and 
although  they  serve  to  explain  to  us  how  these 
beings  can  rise  to  actions  almost  heroic,  they  do 
not  diminish  their  value  in  the  eyes  of  the  sage. 
It  is  true  that  misfortune  is  a  great  school,  and  as 
instructive  as  it  is  severe.  But  all  do  not  profit 
by  its  instructions ;  and  to  know  how  to  receive 
and  apply  them,  is  the  highest  of  human  attain- 
ments. 

Misfortune,  supported  with  dignity  and  resigna- 
tion, imparts  also  the  highest  instruction  to  him 
who  is  the  witness  of  it.     It  tells  him  more   than 


VIRTUES    OF    THE    POOR.  61 

looks  can  do,  and  leaves  deeper  impressions. 
Thus  the  poor  whom  our  frivolity  had  perhaps  dis- 
dained, become  our  instructers.  They  cover  us 
with  salutary  confusion,  by  teaching  us  how  far  we 
are  from  being  as  good  as  we  supposed  ourselves 
to  be.  This  is  one  of  the  most  precious  rewards  re- 
served for  us,  if  we  have  the  courage  to  visit  assidu- 
ously the  dwellings  of  the  poor  ;  and  in  this  single 
lesson,  we  shall  receive  a  hundred  fold  for  the  ben- 
efits of  which  we  have  been  the  instrument.  We 
shall  return  to  our  homes  better  men.  We  shall 
have  acquired  new  light,  and  new  strength.  For 
would  not  such  examples  excite  lively  emulation, 
and  make  the  practice  of  virtue  seem  more  easy 
to  us  ?  Would  not  the  evils  of  which  we  complain 
become  lighter  ?  Often  a  simple  and  ingenuous 
word  which  escapes  from  some  patient  martyr  will 
become  to  us  the  text  of  deep  meditation.  We 
shall  learn,  in  presence  of  these  modest  virtues, 
to  free  ourselves  from  that  vanity  and  pride,  which 
too  often  corrupt  our  best  actions.  We  shall  learn 
two  very  important  and  difficult  things,  to  the  study 
of  which  we  are  but  too  reluctantly  brought ;  we 
shall  learn  how  to  svffer  and  how  to  die, 
6  * 


CHAPTER  V. 

VICES  AND  MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  virtues  of  the  poor. 
But  we  must  not  conceal  the  fact,  that  they  are 
exposed  to  the  contagion  of  vice ;  and  that  there 
are  vices  with  which  they  are  particularly  threat- 
ened. We  must  study  these  moral  maladies,  that 
we  may  learn  how  to  prevent,  or,  at  least,  how  to 
remedy  them.  For  such  is  one  of  the  duties,  and 
perhaps  the  most  important  duty,  confided  to  the 
visitor  of  the  poor. 

As  virtue  is  much  more  necessary  to  the  poor, 
to  render  their  condition  supportable,  and  pre- 
serve to  them  the  means  of  drawing  on  the  re- 
sources which  may  yet  remain  to  them  ;  so  vice 
aggravates  in  every  way  their  painful  situation, 
and  ends  by  rendering  it  desperate. 

Beside  the  misfortunes  caused  by  events  and  the 
chances  of  human  life,  there  are  many  which  are 
the  unfortunate  consequence  of  misconduct ;  and 
the  same  cause  which  has  produced  them  will 
increase    their  extent    and  perpetuate  their   du- 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.     63 

ration.  In  such  instances,  to  remedy  the  mal- 
adies of  the  soul,  is  to  remedy  in  part  the  conse- 
quent misery.  When  a  poor  man  foolishly  dis- 
sipates the  few  resources  which  remain  to  him,  loses 
his  time,  and  ruins  his  health  ;  he  digs  for  himself 
the  abyss  in  which  he  is  to  be  swallowed  up. 
Any  outward  relief  we  bring  to  such  an  individual 
is  superfluous ;  he  would  perhaps  abuse  it.  To 
relieve  him  efficiently  it  is  necessary  to  reform 
him.  What  is  the  use  of  clothing  him,  if  we 
cannot  keep  him  from  despoiling  himself?  In  vain 
we  open  to  him  the  path  of  safety,  if  we  do  not 
enable  him  to  direct  himself  in  it. 

While  the  destruction  of  moral  character  mul- 
tiplies and  prolongs  physical  evils,  it  also  renders 
the  suffering  from  them  more  lively  and  cruel; 
and  is  not  man  so  much  the  more  unfortunate,  the 
more  he  feels  his  poverty  ?  Without  inward  conso- 
lation, he  is  irritated  against  Providence,  exas- 
perated towards  his  fellow  men,  and  becomes 
troublesome  to  himself.  Losing  confidence  in  his 
own  dignity,  he  loses  the  courage  which  made  his 
distress  tolerable.  His  blind  agitation  fixes  more 
deeply  the  arrow  with  which  he  was  wounded. 
His  heart  shuts  itself  to  hope,  and  all  peaceful 
and  gentle  sentiments.     He  condemns  himself  to 


64  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

real  punishment ;  for  he  is  forced  to  acknowledge 
that  he  deserves  what  he  suffers ;  and  this  terrible 
truth,  whose  weight  is  not  alleviated  by  repen- 
tance, overwhelms  him  entirely.  He  is  guilty 
towards  himself,  and  his  just  punishment  is  his 
crime. 

But  what  do  I  hear  ?  Some  one  stops  me,  and 
says  ;  "  The  man  does  not  deserve  to  be  assisted, 
whose  misfortunes  are  the  fruit  of  vice,  and  who 
perseveres  in  his  ignominy  ;  he  only  suffers  what 
he  has  deserved,  and  has  wilfully  brought  upon 
himself;  let  us  reserve  our  bounty  for  those  who 
are  worthy  of  it."  Who  is  this  inflexible,  inexor- 
able, ferocious  moralist,  from  whose  mouth  issues 
this  terrible  sentence  ?  If  the  victim  of  vice  is  the 
author  of  his  own  misfortunes,  can  I  not  do  him  a 
still  more  signal  benefit,  if  I  succeed  in  delivering 
him  from  the  errors  which  have  ruined  him? 
Shall  I  renounce  the  ministry  which  is  confided 
to  me,  because  it  may  become  still  more  useful  ? 
shall  I  only  have  compassion  for  external  mise- 
ries ?  Shall  I  be  indifferent  to  those  of  the  soul  ? 
The  more  horror  we  have  of  vice,  and  the  more 
esteem  we  have  for  virtue,  the  more  zeal  we  shall 
employ  in  extending  the  conquest  of  virtue  over 
vice.     What  do  you  tell   me  ?     Shall  I  have  done 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.     65 

a  less  laudable  action,  because  society,  counting 
one  unhappy  individual  less,  will  at  the  same  time 
count  one  honest  man  more  ? 

He  who  devotes  himself  to  the  touching  office 
of  relieving  the  poor,  will  comprehend  that  Provi- 
dence has  called  him  to  a  still  nobler  duty.  By 
affording  him  favorable  opportunities  to  shed  upon  a 
fertile  soil  the  salutary  influences  of  morality,  it 
has  confided  to  him  a  sort  of  apostleship.  In  the 
world,  many  circumstances  are  opposed  to  direct 
instruction,  which,  besides,  would  usually  destroy 
its  own  end.  But  here  it  is  otherwise  ;  the  un- 
fortunate being  to  whom  charity  has  led  us,  is 
perhaps  friendless  ;  perhaps  no  voice  has  made  him 
understand  the  gentle  and  salutary  words  which 
morality  makes  use  of  as  medicines  for  inward 
evils  ;  our  presence  alone,  if  we  bring  him  encour- 
agement and  assistance,  will  dispose  him  to  be 
affected  by  us,  and  to  conceive,  and  to  feel  that 
there  is  for  human  beings  an  order  of  things  su- 
perior to  material  life  ;  the  interest  we  show  for 
him  will  give  authority  to  the  counsels  inspired  by 
our  tender  solicitude  for  his  fate.  The  heart  is 
prepared  to  comprehend  God  and  virtue,  when  it 
opens  to  consolation  and  hope.  Let  not  the  visi- 
tor of  the  poor  be  then  merely  a  distributer  of 
6# 


66  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

alms  !  let  him  become  a  guide  and  true  friend  to 
the  poor  !  let  him  elevate  in  his  own  eyes  the 
being  cast  off  by  the  world  and  humbled  by  the 
frivolous  disdain  of  hard  hearts !  let  him  reveal  to 
him  all  the  dignity  and  value  of  the  advantages 
which  are  hidden  under  the  sad  circumstances  of 
poverty  ! 

The  advantages  of  adversity  are  great  in  the 
eyes  of  religion  and  morality.  Jesus  Christ 
teaches  us  that  the  poor  and  forsaken  are  the  favor- 
ites of  God,  a  sublime  revelation  which  alone 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  make  the  Gospel 
blessed  by  all  the  earth  !  Philosophy  and  mo- 
rality make  us  recognise  in  all  the  ills  of  life, 
trials  which  exercise  and  prepare  us  to  become 
better,  —  a  harsh  but  salutary  education,  which  has 
for  its  end  our  reformation,  our  self-government, 
the  destruction  of  selfishness  in  its  first  begin- 
nings, and  our  preparation  for  sympathy  with  our 
brethren.  Penetrated  with  these  views,  we  shall 
approach  the  poor  man  with  a  sentiment  of  re- 
spect;  our  regard  will  make  him  comprehend 
what  he  is  perhaps  ignorant  of,  his  true  situation 
in  the  World,  the  rank  which  he  occupies,  and  the 
prospects  that  await  him.  Oh  !  if  he  only  knew 
the  gift  of  God!    blessed  are  the  poor,   blessed 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.     67 

are  they  that  mourn!  The  admirable  mystery 
contained  in  these  words  it  is  difficult  for  the 
unfortunate  being  to  understand,  who  is  still  a 
captive  in  the  narrow  circle  of  sensual  life  ;  but  it 
begins  to  reveal  itself  in  the  presence  of  charity. 
In  the  benevolence  with  which  he  sees  himself 
approached  by  a  good  man,  he  perceives  a  ray  of 
that  supreme  goodness  which  seeks  out,  calls,  and 
adopts  him. 

If,  as  is  too  often  the  case,  we  find  it  impossible 
to  diminish  his  troubles,  at  least  we  will  assist  him 
in  rendering  them  useful ;  and  if  he  knew  how  to 
contemplate  them  under  this  aspect,  they  would 
already  be  less  bitter.  To  learn  to  bear  suffering 
is  more  than  to  be  relieved.  But  the  sufferer  is 
hardly  disposed  to  receive  such  instruction  except 
from  the  mouth  of  him  who  relieves  him ;  he  more 
easily  believes  him  whose  benevolence  he  expe- 
riences. If  he  hears  harsh  maxims  upon  the 
utility  of  grief,  pronounced  by  those  who  do  not 
console  him,  he  is  too  apt  to  think  that  resignation 
is  preached  to  him  only  to  avoid  the  necessity  of 
giving  him  assistance,  and  that  we  wish  to  ac- 
custom him  to  his  sad  fate  because  we  can  give 
him  no  hope  of  relief.  Those  can  converse  with 
him  upon  the  designs  of  Providence,  who  are  the 


68 


VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 


sensible  organs  of  Providence  to  him ;  and  may- 
assist  him  in  discovering  the  treasures  which  are 
offered  him,  and  in  seizing  that  crown  which  is 
reserved  for  him  !  What  is  there  more  terrible  to 
him  who  mourns,  than  to  mourn  in  vain  ?  What 
is  there  more  beautiful  than  to  find  in  the  most 
harsh  and  mysterious  sufferings,  a  means  of  per- 
fection and  a  matter  of  triumph  ?  The  former  is 
the  misfortune  which  the  visitor  of  the  poor  may 
turn  aside,  the  latter  is  a  benefit  which  he  may 
add  to  all  others. 

But  in  the  designs  of  Providence,  adversity  is 
not  only  a  trial  destined  to  render  us  better,  by 
the  exercise  of  patience ;  it  is  also  a  correction 
destined  to  punish  our  faults,  and  to  reform  our 
vices,  and  in  this  double  relation  it  is  equally  a 
great  and  salutary  means  of  moral  education. 

Suffering  and  privation  tend  to  make  man  enter 
into  himself  and  suggest  to  him  grave  and  serious 
reflections.  If  he  obeys  this  useful  inspiration,  if 
he  examines  himself  with  severity,  if  he  lets  the 
voice  of  repentance  rise  from  the  bottom  of  his 
heart,  he  will  accept  this  just  chastisement  of  his 
faults ;  he  will  shake  off  the  chains  in  which  vice 
held  him  captive  ;  he  will  feel  that,  having  allowed 
the  moral  dignity  of  our  nature  to  be   degraded 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.     69 

in  his  person,  through  a  want  of  self-government, 
he  can  only  restore  himself  by  resuming  self-gov- 
ernment ;  he  will  comprehend  that  adversity  is  pre- 
cisely the  spur  to  excite  him  to  attempt  this  great 
internal  revolution,  that  the  constraint  which  is 
imposed  upon  him  from  without,  by  imperious 
necessity,  teaches  him  to  exercise  over  himself 
and  over  his  inclinations,  that  voluntary  constraint 
in  which  consists  the  reform  demanded  by  virtue. 

Let  not  a  blind  and  ill  understood  bounty,  on 
the  part  of  those  who  relieve  indigence,  cause 
those  great  lessons  sent  by  Providence  to  be  mis- 
understood, or  their  fruits  to  be  lost  !  Let  us 
rather  enter  ourselves  into  this  thought,  but  with 
the  reserve  and  indulgence  imposed  upon  us  by  a 
sense  of  our  own  imperfection  and  the  charity 
which  we  owe  to  our  brethren.  Let  us  indirectly 
second  the  harsh  instruction  which  the  poor  man  is 
to  receive  ;  let  us  second  it  in  proportion  as  it  is 
necessary  to  him,  and  as  his  distress  is  more  par- 
ticularly the  consequence  of  his  faults. 

Unfortunately,  if  there  are  vices  which  engen- 
der poverty,  there  are  also  vices  which  poverty 
engenders ;  distinct  in  their  causes,  they  are  con- 
founded in  their  effects  ;  the  eye  of  the  visitor  of 
the   poor  ought  to  discriminate  them  ;    he  ought 


70  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

also  to  unravel  the   painful  and  reciprocal  reaction 
which  they  exercise  over  each  other. 

Intemperance  and  idleness  are  the  two  vices 
which  most  generally  engender  misery.  The 
former  produces  it  in  two  different  ways ;  by 
impairing  the  health  and  by  dissipating  the  re- 
sources ;  it  has  also  the  serious  consequence  of 
enfeebling  the  reason  and  degrading  the  character. 
Unfortunately,  in  the  poorer  conditions  of  society, 
men  condemned  to  painful  labors  and  deprived  of 
the  pleasures  of  intellect,  and  all  those  enjoy- 
ments procured  by  the  intercourse  of  society, 
often  become  too  greedy  of  sensual  pleasures ; 
they  seek  in  them  a  relief  from  ennui,  and  take 
pleasure  in  the  deadening  effect  they  produce, 
while  their  want  of  foresight  conceals  from  them 
the  fatal  consequences  which  must  spring  from 
them.  Let  us  pity  them ;  they  feel  the  need  of 
emotions,  and  seek  it  in  excesses.  Shut  out  from 
the  intellectual,  they  plunge  into  the  animal  life. 
How  should  this  sad  experience  make  us  feel  the 
value  of  public  education,  properly  directed  !  and 
how  should  it  condemn  the  cruel  and  absurd 
maxims  of  the  proud  sophists  who  would  devote 
these  large  classes  of  society  to  brutality  and 
ignorance  ! 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.     71 

Idleness  often  arises  partly  from  temperament ; 
but  it  always  supposes  previous  habits  of  negli- 
gence, and  especially  neglected  education.  It  is 
in  youth,  and  even  in  childhood,  that  the  taste 
for  labor  must  be  contracted.  Then,  in  satisfying 
the  desire  of  activity  which  is  natural  to  us,  the 
habit  of  labor  may  be  acquired,  and  it  becomes 
in  its  turn  a  second  education.  But,  if,  from  in- 
fancy, the  physical  and  moral  faculties  have  been 
idle,  if  the  effeminate  pleasures  of  indolence  have 
exercised  their  fatal  charm,  if  the  first  years  of 
life  have  passed  without  the  springs  of  the  soul 
being  kept  in  exercise  by  assiduous  and  regular 
application,  labor  will  inspire  only  repugnance  and 
disgust ;  we  shall  soon  have  less  aptitude  for  it, 
and  apathy  will  bring  in  its  train  negligence,  want 
of  foresight,  and  disorder. 

Intemperance  often  produces  indolence,  by  the 
general  relaxation  it  occasions  in  the  character; 
idleness  often  opens  the  access  to  licentiousness, 
and  seductions  multiply  to  him  who  is  given  up  to 
it.  Besides  these  two  vices  have  this  in  common, 
that  they  enfeeble  the  energy  of  the  will,  and  the 
authority  which  man  ought  to  exercise  over  his 
own  actions. 


72  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

The  poverty  to  which  these  vices  rapidly  con- 
duct, is  their  natural  punishment ;  and  it  would  thus 
seem  that  it  ought  to  correct  them ;  repressing  in- 
perance  by  privations,  and  waking  from  lethargy 
by  the  spur  of  want.  However,  the  efficacious- 
ness of  the  remedy  is  far  from  being  infallible  ; 
the  malady  resists  it,  when  it  is  inveterate.  There 
are  no  vices  more  difficult  to  cure  than  those 
whose  character  it  is  to  destroy  moral  energy,  and 
to  degrade  the  dignity  of  our  nature  by  delivering 
us  up  to  the  slavery  of  the  senses. 

There  is  a  degree  of  degradation  so  great,  that 
misery  itself,  though  it  takes  away  the  means  of 
satisfying  intemperance,  still  increases  the  fatal 
avidity  which  leads  to  this  kind  of  excess.  The 
corrupt  and  degenerate  being,  not  only  will  not  be 
drawn  from  the  mire,  but  losing  every  remnant  of 
a  sense  of  character  will  not  even  blush  any  more ; 
he  will  seek,  in  the  fatal  intoxication  of  the  de- 
bauch, to  lose  the  sense  of  his  own  miseries,  and 
turn  his  thoughts  from  the  future  which  awaits 
him.  He  will  snatch  from  his  wife  and  children 
the  bread  which  w^as  destined  for  them ;  he  will 
sell  or  pledge  the  little  which  remains  to  them  ; 
he  will  consume  to-day  the  resources  which  were 
to  provide  for  them  to-morrow,  and  will  thus  end 
by  becoming  unnatural. 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.     73 

Poverty  brings  discouragement  upon  weak 
minds;  abandoned  by  fortune,  they  also  abandon 
themselves.  They  despair  of  the  future ;  they 
neither  count  upon  the  course  of  events,  nor  the 
assistance  of  others,  nor  upon  their  own  strength. 
Their  ideas  are  confounded,  their  will  is  stupefied. 
The  dejection,  which  is  painted  in  their  features, 
announces  the  inward  sinking  of  their  faculties. 
They  no  longer  know  how  to  act ;  they  are  no 
longer  capable  of  vigorous  resolutions ;  they  ne- 
glect the  smallest  cares,  even  those  of  order  and 
neatness  in  their  clothes,  in  their  families,  in  the 
education  of  their  children ;  and  the  neglect  in- 
creases. To  the  idleness  of  inefficiency  succeeds 
the  idleness  of  despair  ;  the  poor  being  only  re- 
tains the  power  to  implore  the  pity  of  others  ; 
he  is  ready  to  accept  his  shame,  to  embrace  the 
condition  of  a  beggar,  although  still  capable  of 
labor,  which  you  offer  him  as  a  resource,  but  from 
which  he  turns  away. 

It  is  certainly  a  difficult  undertaking  to  snatch 
the  poor  man  from  a  yoke  so  shameful,  when  he 
is,  as  it  were,  stupefied.  But  we  are  never  per- 
mitted to  despair  of  the  cure  of  moral  maladies. 
There  is  not  one  absolutely  incurable.  In  many 
points  of  view,  the  visitor  of  the  poor  seems  more 
7 


74  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

particularly  called  upon  to  cooperate  in  the  cure  ; 
for  it  may  depend  in  part  on  the  wise  distribution 
of  charity. 

The  greatest  service  which  can  be  rendered  to 
the  poor,  by  those  who  are  interested  in  their  fate, 
is  certainly  to  employ  every  means  to  revive  their 
courage  and  energy.  We  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm 
that  such  service  will  be  more  useful  than  the  most 
abundant  alms-giving.  It  will  restore  to  them  the 
activity  of  mind  and  body  necessary  for  using  the 
resources  which  remain,  and  even  for  creating  new 
ones.  By  weakening  their  sense  of  their  misery 
it  will  make  them  less  unhappy.  By  reestablish- 
ing them  in  their  own  eyes,  by  giving  them  some 
confidence  in  themselves,  it  will  preserve  them 
from  a  thousand  faults  which  would  aggravate  their 
situation.  But  to  obtain  a  moral  restoration  so 
difficult,  we  cannot  arm  ourselves  with  too  much 
constancy ;  we  shall  ourselves  need  much  courage  ; 
it  will  sometimes  be  necessary  to  unite  severe 
firmness  with  an  inexhaustible  benevolence. 

It  would  be  contrary  to  humanity  to  show  our- 
selves so  inexorable  towards  the  indigent,  who 
are  a  prey  to  intemperance  and  idleness,  as  to  re- 
fuse them  all  kinds  of  assistance  ;  and  it  would  in- 
deed defeat  the  end  we  ought  to  propose  to  our- 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OP  THE  POOR.     75 

selves.  But  it  is  allowable,  it  is  just,  it  is  useful, 
to  give  charity  upon  conditions  ;  and  to  proportion 
it,  in  a  degree,  to  the  merits  of  those  who  receive 
it ;  to  require  that  he,  to  whom  we  lend  support, 
should  also  endeavour  to  assist  himself,  or  at  least 
not  destroy  the  good  we  wish  to  do  him.  Without 
becoming  barbarous,  the  visitor  of  the  poor  may 
show  himself  severe.  He  will  become  more  indul- 
gent in  proportion  as  he  sees  some  attempt  at  re- 
form ;  he  will  encourage  and  reward  efforts.  He 
will  also  apply  himself  to  so  managing  assistance, 
that  the  indigent  may  abuse  it  as  little  as  possible. 
He  will  not  give  them  money,  but  necessary  arti- 
cles ;  which  he  will  furnish  from  day  to  day.  He 
will  hold  them  in  suspense,  not  pledging  himself  for 
the  morrow.  He  will  constantly  watch  over  the 
conduct  of  the  sick ;  a  look  from  him  will  serve 
for  warning,  reprimand,  or  encouragement.  The 
poor  man,  who  feels  himself  thus  watched,  will  fear 
to  lose  his  protection,  and  will  not  perhaps  be 
insensible  to  the  hope  of  deserving  it. 

Many  of  the  poor  resemble  children,  in  ignorance, 
want  of  foresight,  and  levity.  Like  children,  they 
sometimes  need  to  feel  correction  and  reward, 
provided  these  are  applied  with  entire  justice. 
There  is  nothing  better  calculated  to  oblige  the 


76  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

slave  of  bad  habits  to  return  to  himself,  by  saluta- 
ry reflection.  This  regimen,  prudently  applied, 
will  lead  the  poor  man  to  discover  in  the  misery 
of  his  condition  the  consequence  and  punishment 
of  his  faults,  and  to  accept  it  and  profit  by  it.  The 
best  of  lessons  to  a  man,  are  those  which  come  to 
him  from  his  own  mind. 

In  order  to  begin  to  make  such  degraded  beings 
understand  useful  truths,  we  are  unfortunately 
reduced  to  the  necessity  of  speaking  to  them  the 
language  of  their  own  interest,  and  often  that  of 
their  lowest  interest.  Now  this  language  is  natu- 
rally found  in  the  mouth  of  him  who  really,  with 
a  sincere  solicitude,  watches  over  their  interests  ; 
and  this  circumstance  sometimes  gives  credit  to 
his  words.  He  is  clothed  with  a  sort  of  percepti- 
ble and  incontestable  authority,  that  which  results 
from  the  dependence  upon  him  of  the  poor  man 
who  invokes  his  support. 

The  mere  presence  of  a  good  man,  when  he 
approaches  him  who  has  fallen  into  the  abysses  of 
corruption,  exercises  over  the  miserable  being 
an  insensible  but  salutary  influence.  It  is  like  a 
ray  of  new  light  which  penetrates  into  the  dark- 
est obscurity ;  it  is  an  emanation  of  a  pure  atmo- 
sphere which  is  introduced  into  an  infectious  abode. 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.     77 

Indeed,  can  virtue  present  itself  under  a  form 
more  fit  to  make  it  recognised  and  respected  by 
those  who  had  lost  the  memory  of  it,  than  when 
it  appears  preceded  by  beneficence,  surrounded 
by  hope,  and  giving  us  examples  for  our  instruc- 
tion ?  Where  is  the  man  depraved  enough,  not 
to  feel  some  emotion  at  contemplating  its  image 
under  such  an  aspect  ?  He  will  begin  by  blessing 
it ;  will  he  not  finish  by  understanding  and  desir- 
ing to  follow  it  ?  Unfortunate  man !  wake  from 
this  sleep  of  death,  in  which  thy  soul  is  buried  ; 
raise  thy  brow,  contemplate  that  good  man  who 
advances  towards  thee  !  Dost  thou  not  feel,  in 
spite  of  the  immense  distance  which  is  between 
you,  that  he  is  still  thy  brother  ?  Does  not  this 
noble  consanguinity  show  thee,  in  the  very  bosom 
of  misery,  the  dignity  of  that  common  nature  in 
which  thou  participatest,  although  thou  hast  so 
little  understood  it  ?  Dost  thou  not  see  that  there 
is  for  the  human  creature  another  existence  than 
vegetative  and  brutal  life  ?  Dost  thou  not  feel 
that  what  renders  thy  misery  humiliating,  is  that 
thou  addest  degradation  of  character  to  the  want 
of  earthly  goods  ;  but  that  it  would  become  respec- 
table, if  thou  didst  worthily  support  this  trial  ? 
Ah  !  do  not  resist  the  secret  voice  which  makes 
7* 


78  visitor  or  THE  POOR. 

itself  heard  within,  and  which  solicits  thee  to 
escape  from  the  shipwreck.  Return  to  the  sense 
of  thy  duty,  and  serene  days  may  yet  shine  upon 
thee. 

It  is  especially  with  regard  to  intemperance  and 
debauchery,  that  corporal  privation  and  sufferings 
may  have  a  salutary  effect.  It  is  rare  that  such 
vices  have  been  reformed  without  the  assistance 
of  such  chastisement ;  which  has,  moreover,  the 
advantage  of  breaking  up  the  habits.  But  we 
cannot  expect  reform  from  the  mere  efficacy  of 
privations  and  sufferings,  if  there  is  not,  in  addition 
to  them,  some  moral  influence,  which  may  explain 
and  make  them  fruitful,  and  which,  while  the 
senses  sutler  correction,  may  rekindle,  in  the 
bottom  of  the  soul,  the  flame  of  conscience.  Idle- 
ness also  demands  harsh  and  rough  treatment ; 
it  must  feel  the  law  of  necessity  ;  it  is  useful  for 
a  sudden  and  piercing  spur  to  arouse  it  suddenly 
from  its  stupor.  The  calculations  of  interest  may 
be  united  to  a  sense  of  duty  ;  but,  whatever  pre- 
tended sages  say,  this  interest  alone,  however  evi- 
dent and  however  urgent  it  maybe,  is  not  sufficient 
to  restore  inward  life  to  a  being  thus  paralyzed  ;  mo- 
rality is  necessary  to  combine  a  new  interest  with 
material  interest,  and  the  governing  sense  of  duty 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE   POOR.  79 

must  be  developed,  to  induce  him  to  take  care  of 
himself. 

The  moral  malady  of  discouragement  demands 
particular  care  and  regard ;  it  even  demands  deli- 
cate and  attentive  management.  In  this  case  it 
is  only  to  the  soul  that  it  is  necessary  to  bring 
assistance.  Let  us  first  of  all  avoid  humbling  it, 
or  increasing  its  despair,  by  the  excessive  severity 
of  our  censures.  Let  us  first  dissipate  the  thick 
and  gloomy  cloud  of  sadness  which  envelopes 
the  unfortunate  man,  who  is  overwhelmed  by 
adversity  ;  let  even  the  objects,  which  meet  his 
eye,  be  as  much  as  possible  adapted  to  restore  to 
him  some  serenity,  and  to  produce  pleasant  im- 
pressions. Let  us  compassionate  his  weakness 
without  indulging  it.  Let  us  listen  to  him  with 
patience  when  he  is  irritated,  and  abandons  him- 
self to  depicting  and  even  exaggerating  his  trials. 
By  learning  to  confide  in  another,  he  will  be  pre- 
paring to  have  some  confidence  in  himself.  It 
will  be  necessary  at  first  to  lend  him  external 
support  in  order  to  begin  to  raise  him  up  a  little. 
Then  we  must  by  degrees  restore  to  him  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  own  strength,  by  making  him 
try  it.  We  will  show  him  by  our  indulgence, 
that  he  can  recover  his  self-esteem.     If  we  sue- 


80  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

ceed  in  reestablishing  him  in  his  own  eyes,  we 
shall  have  restored  to  him  his  will  ;  we  shall  have 
taught  him  that  he  can  still  struggle  and  conquer. 
Goodness  of  heart  has  wonderful  secrets  by  which 
to  penetrate  hearts.  It  has  magic  powers  to 
resuscitate  the  principles  of  life ;  it  is  the  messen- 
ger of  hope. 

In  our  conversations  with  these  poor  people, 
the  most  efficacious  means  of  penetrating  them 
with  useful  truths,  and  suggesting  to  them  good 
resolutions,  consists  in  citing  them  examples,  pro- 
vided these  examples  are  taken  from  situations 
entirely  analogous  to  that  in  which  they  are  found. 
Thus  you  may  begin  by  first  exciting  their  at- 
tention, and  this  first  step  not  being  the  least 
difficult,  they  become  interested  in  your  story  ; 
they  comprehend  you  ;  they  conceive  the  possi- 
bility of  accomplishing  what  you  advise  them. 
Imitation  exercises  peculiar  influence  over  the 
unenlightened.  Be  careful  not  to  forget,  in  your 
recital,  any  of  the  circumstances  calculated  to 
produce  a  distinct  image  ;  the  place,  the  day,  the 
name,  the  countenance,  even  the  abode  of  the 
persons.  If  you  can  call  a  third  person  to  confirm 
this  recital,  if  you  can  show  the  individuals,  you 
will  interest  still  more.     But  do  not  rest  contented 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.  81 

with  a  single  example ;  do  not  seem  to  demand 
any  thing  extraordinary  ;  the  idea  of  heroes  some- 
times frightens  the  weak. 

Unfortunately,  we  often  meet,  in  this  very  limit- 
ed class,  individuals,  whom  the  want  of  education 
and  gross  habits  have  reduced  to  the  narrowest 
circle  of  ideas ;  or  whose  intellectual  faculties 
have  been  enfeebled  by  misery.  Apathy  of 
character  is  then  the  consequence  of  a  lethargy  of 
the  reason  ;  nothing  is  more  afflicting  than  such 
a  spectacle.  What  patience  will  not  be  necessary 
to  restore  to  such  beings  a  little  vital  warmth  ? 
But  the  office  of  visitor  of  the  poor  is  an  office 
of  patience. 

The  vicious  poor  may  be  divided  into  two  great 
classes,  those  who  have  passed  the  threshold  of 
shame,  and  those  who  have  not.  There  is  little 
to  be  hoped  from  the  first ;  but  even  if  our  efforts 
are  to  be  fruitless,  we  will  not  hesitate  to  make  a 
trial,  to  persevere.  Perhaps  we  shall  prevent 
farther  corruption ;  at  least  they  will  be  re- 
strained by  our  watchful  care.  As  to  the  second, 
intercourse  with  a  good  man  is  one  of  the  most 
powerful  preservatives  against  the  danger  of 
degradation.  For  the  time,  there  is  a  powerful 
motive  to   make  generous  resolutions.     Nothing 


82  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

is  desperate  ;    and  great  rewards  are  held  out  to 
zeal. 

There  is  a  third  class,  and  it  comprehends  the 
greatest  number  ;  it  is  that  of  the  poor  who  float 
between  vice  and  virtue ;  whose  thoughts  are 
exclusively  absorbed  by  the  necessities  of  life, 
who  vegetate  without  rendering  themselves  guilty, 
but  without  acquiring  any  merit;  — in  short,  those 
who  are  not  in  moral  life.  This  moral  life  is  the 
revelation  which  we  are  charged  to  carry  to  them ; 
it  is  a  light  to  be  shed,  an  education  to  be  under- 
taken. But  here  we  shall  only  have  to  struggle 
against  inattention  and  ignorance.  In  this  being, 
who  lives,  moves,  and  suffers,  is  hidden  another 
superior  being,  who  sleeps  ;  a  being  capable  of  the 
highest  sentiment,  and  of  immortal  thoughts,  It 
is  the  latter  we  must  awaken  and  put  in  posses- 
sion of  his  faculties. 

Let  us  not  lose  sight  of  the  unfortunate  being, 
the  care  of  whom  we  have  taken  up,  especially 
when  he  finds  himself  in  any  crisis  which  renders 
his  condition  still  more  painful ;  or  when  his  char- 
acter is  preparing  him  for  extreme  resolutions. 
Let  us  watch  over  him  when  he  is  threatened  by 
the  storms  of  despair.  Perhaps  in  the  cruel  ago- 
nies he  feels,  he  has  thought  of  destroying  himself! 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.  83 

The    friend    appears,    discovers    upon    his    brow 
something  wandering  and   ferocious.     He   cannot 
succeed  at  first   in  making  himself  heard.     He  is 
repulsed,  yet  he  is   not  discouraged ;    he  seizes 
upon  some  circumstances  calculated  to  act  upon 
the  mind  of  the  unfortunate  one ;    a  funeral,  for 
example,  passes  under  their  eyes.     "  Thou   seest 
this  bier;     it   contains   the  remains   of   a  young, 
rich,   and  beautiful  woman ;    a  cruel    malady  at- 
tacked her  ;  she  suffered  horrible   torments  ;   her 
palace   resounded    with   her    cries ;    she   expired. 
Behind  her  bier,  behold  her  desolate  husband  ;  he 
says  to  himself,  as  thou  dost,  but  more  justly,  that 
he  cannot  survive  his  misfortune.     Ah  !  undeceive 
thyself;    thou  art  not   the  only  unhappy  one   on 
this  earth.       The   sharp   and   rending    arrows    of 
suffering  penetrate  on  all  sides,  even  to  him  whose 
apparent  felicity  thou  enviest." 

Perhaps  the  visitor  of  the  poor  will  not  have  to 
go  far  to  seek  the  example  of  great  misfortunes  ; 
who  is  there  that  has  not  his  own  misfortunes  to 
relate  ?  "  Unfortunate  man  !  thou  turnest  thine 
eyes  upon  thy  children  !  Knowest  thou  what  it 
costs  me  to  contemplate  them  ?  Well,  listen  ! 
I  also  had  children  !  one  after  another  they  have 
been  taken   from    me;      one   after   another  they 


84  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

have  expired  in  my  arms.  Of  what  importance 
to  me,  is  this  fortune  which  remains  to  me  ?  All 
the  hope,  all  the  consolation  of  my  old  age  is 
taken  from  me ;  there  is  no  more  happiness  for 
me  on  earth,  I  sigh  for  the  tomb.  —  Ah  !  cast  a 
look  upon  these  sweet  creatures,  for  whom  there 
is  still  a  future,  and  cease  to  accuse  Heaven. 
Take  courage,  and  thou  art  assisted !  take  cour- 
age, and  thou  wilt  revive  ;  and,  in  thy  mediocrity, 
thou  wilt  be  more  happy  than  I  can  be." 

And  certainly  in  order  to  fulfill  this  noble  mis- 
sion, we  must  not  remain  strangers  to  the  practice 
of  excellence.  How  can  we  teach  virtue  if  we 
are  not  penetrated  by  its  lessons  ?  Thus  the  ca- 
reer of  charity  we  have  embraced  is  a  new  advan- 
tage to  us  ;  it  will  bind  us  to  our  duties  by  new 
ties ;  we  also  shall  become  better  for  it,  without 
perceiving  it ;  we  cannot  give  counsels  to  others^ 
without  coming  back  upon  ourselves,  and  we  shall 
feel  besides  that  the  best  counsels  are  examples. 
Sometimes  a  man  of  the  world,  in  fulfilling  the 
functions  of  visitor  of  the  poor,  will  attempt  to 
speak  thus.  "  Thou  thinkest  it  impossible  to  tri- 
umph over  thyself,  and  to  become  again  a  good 
man  !  Well !  listen  to  me  ;  I  have  been  young, 
I  was  long  carried   away  by  my  passions ;    they 


MORAL  AMELIORATION  OF  THE  POOR.     85 

were  perhaps  different  from  thine,  but  still  were 
violent.  They  had  enslaved  me  ;  I  committed  many 
faults  ;  but  at  last  I  reflected  and  heard  the  voice 
of  truth  and  duty ;  I  hesitated,  wished,  and  had 
hard  struggles  ;  but  I  freed  myself,  and  now  I 
rejoice :  Courage  !  courage  !  it  depends  upon 
thyself  to  wake  to  virtue  and  to  become  better 
than  I  am. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MEANS  OF  OBTAINING  THE  CONFIDENCE  OF  THE  POOR. 

To  promote  the  moral  improvement  of  the 
poor,  or  even  to  do  any  thing  effectual  for  the 
relief  of  their  physical  wants,  we  must  obtain 
their  confidence  :  but  in  this  there  are  some  diffi- 
culties. 

The  poor  will  sometimes  seek  to  deceive  you. 
The  sense  of  want  disposes  to  falsehood  ;  the 
weak  are  apt  to  seek  assistance  from  cunning. 
Such  can  hardly  avoid  concealing  their  own  faults, 
and  exaggerating  their  wants,  in  the  presence  of 
those  who  seem  able  to  relieve  them.  If  you  are 
not  able  to  verify  the  facts  they  allege,  the  more 
they  will  flatter  themselves  that  they  can  deceive 
you.  And  having  real  need  of  your  pity,  they 
think  the  false  pictures  they  present  to  you  are 
only  an  allowable  oratorical  artifice,  to  fix  your 
attention  and  interest  your  feelings. 

There  are,  on  the  contrary,  others  whom  timidity 
induces  to  hide  from  us  their  true  situation  ;  for 
what  cause  produces  timidity  more  frequently  than 


OBTAINING  THE   CONFIDENCE   OF  THE   POOR.     87 

misfortune  ?  They  have  not  the  courage  to  raise 
the  veil  which  envelopes  so  many  miseries  ;  the 
sight  of  our  luxury  and  abundance  imposes  upon 
them ;  they  blush  for  their  miseries  ;  they  fear  to 
try  our  patience  ;  they  fear  that  their  voice  will  be 
troublesome  to  us  in  the  midst  of  our  enjoyments. 
Sometimes  a  respectable  sense  of  character  in- 
spires them  with  this  reserve  ;  they  do  not  wish 
to  expose  themselves  to  our  disdain.  Sometimes 
an  exaggerated  though  commendable  delicacy, 
leads  them  to  disguise  their  wants,  as  long  as  they 
can  hope  to  provide  for  them  without  external  aid. 
In  general  the  differences  of  condition  and  for- 
tune, raise  between  men  a  wall  of  separation,  that 
prevents  intimate  communication.  Confidence, 
like  friendship,  supposes  a  certain  equality  ;  it 
supposes  some  return,  or  at  least  a  possibility  of 
return.  To  confide  in  another  it  is  necessary  to 
be  certain  of  being  understood ;  it  is  necessary 
then  to  speak  the  same  language,  to  be  subject  to 
the  same  impressions,  to  be  placed  in  the  same 
points  of  view.  But  what  is  there  in  common 
between  a  poor  man,  who  has  received  little  edu- 
cation, who  has  passed  his  life  in  the  toils  of 
labor,  who  lives  amidst  privations  of  every  kind, 
and    the   prosperous  man   of  the  world,    who    is 


88  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

weary  of  pleasures,  whose  least  desires  are  antici- 
pated ?  Hardly  does  the  former  recognise  in  the 
latter  a  being  that  belongs  to  the  same  nature. 
Perhaps  unconsciously,  a  secret  germ  of  envy  is 
developed  in  the  heart  of  this  unfortunate  being 
at  the  sight  of  one  who  is  loaded  with  the  gifts  of 
fortune,  and  if  it  does  not  lead  him  to  bitterness, 
at  least  it  prevents  him  from  opening  his  heart 
freely.  What  sympathy  can  he  hope  from  a  being 
who  never  has  felt  any  sufferings  like  his  ?  What 
attention  can  he  hope  will  be  given  to  details, 
which,  although  to  himself  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance, to  such  an  auditor  are  absolutely  without 
interest  ?  He  is  put  under  constaint  by  the  su- 
periority which  chance  alone  has  granted  to  anoth- 
er man,  and  by  the  kind  of  authority  which  this 
circumstance  lends  to  that  man  over  his  destiny ; 
by  the  dependence  in  which  he  finds  himself;  and 
by  the  idea  of  the  examination,  of  which  he  is 
about  to  become  the  object.  He  scarcely  supposes 
it  possible  that  the  favorite  of  fortune  is  exempt 
from  pride  and  vanity  ;  and  nothing  is  more  repel- 
ling than  a  suspicion  of  this  nature.  Even  if  he 
recognises  the  virtues  of  him  who  comes  to  his 
assistance,  he  perhaps  feels  constraint  from  the 
idea   of  those   very  virtues,  and    from  foreseeing 


OBTAINING  THE   CONFIDENCE  OF  THE  POOR.     89 

the  efforts  which  will  be  made  to  produce  his 
reformation. 

Such  then  are  the  barriers  between  the  visitor 
of  the  poor  and  the  poor  man,  although  it  is  so 
necessary  that  they  should  understand  each  other. 

It  is  not  in  one  day  that  we  can  triumph  over 
all  these  obstacles,  nor  is  it  by  one  class  of  means 
that  we  shall  surmount  difficulties  of  a  nature  so 
different. 

The  liar  may  be  known  by  his  affirmative  tone, 
his  affected  assurance,  and  the  abundance  of  his 
words  ;  by  the  precaution  he  takes  to  avoid  all 
verification  of  the  facts  he  alleges,  by  his  eager- 
ness to  come  to  visit  us,  by  the  pretexts  he  em- 
ploys to  spare  us  the  trouble  of  unexpected  visits 
which  we  would  make  him.  Let  us  be  suspicious 
of  every  demand  whose  object  is  announced  as  so 
urgent  that  it  does  not  leave  time  for  reflection 
and  examination.  Let  us  be  suspicious  of  every 
recital  too  well  arranged  not  to  have  been  pre- 
pared beforehand  and  learnt  in  some  degree  by 
heart.  Let  us  compare  all  the  circumstances. 
Let  us  be  at  the  very  heels  of  him  who  wishes  to 
take  us  by  surprise ;  if  necessary,  let  us  make 
him  fall,  in  his  turn,  into  some  snare,  in  which  his 
falsehood  may  be  brought  to  light,  in  order  that  he 
8* 


90 


VISITOR  OP  THE   POOR. 


may  be  covered  with  a  salutary  confusion.  It  is 
painful  to  say  it ;  but  daily  experience  forces  us 
to  acknowledge,  that,  too  often,  the  poor  affect 
great  exactness  in  their  religious  observances, 
to  make  the  benevolent  more  favorable  to  them. 
It  is  by  penetrating  into  their  internal  history,  by 
studying  their  domestic  relations,  and  their  conduct 
as  neighbours,  and  by  examining  the  use  they  make 
of  their  time,  that  we  unmask  their  hypocrisy. 
Whatever  may  be  the  just  importance  we  attach 
to  religious  duties,  let  us  not  make  their  observ- 
ance so  much  a  condition  of  our  favor,  that  the 
poor  man  who  accosts  us,  shall  think  himself 
obliged  to  begin  by  an  apology  for  his  neglect  of 
them ;  let  us  not  give  him  reason  to  suppose  that 
the  performance  of  such  duties  can  excuse  the 
neglect  of  any  others. 

A  too  easy  kindness  may  become  an  encourage- 
ment to  falsehood.  It  is  then  necessary  to  know 
how  to  restrain  our  own  impulses,  and  sometimes 
not  to  show  ourselves  too  quickly  affected,  al- 
though it  is  painful  to  guard  ourselves  against  our 
own  hearts.  To  unmask  falsehood,  we  may  feign 
for  an  instant  to  be  duped  ;  but  to  correct  it,  it  is 
necessary  to  convince  a  liar,  that  far  from  finding 
any  advantage   in    deceiving,  there  is  nothing  to 


OBTAINING  THE   CONFIDENCE   OF  THE  POOR.    91 

be  hoped,  but  from  scrupulous  veracity.  When  the 
inclination  to  deceive  among  the  poor  announces  a 
depth  of  baseness,  let  us  preserve  a  calm  and 
measured  dignity  ;  let  us  impress  them,  if  possible, 
with  a  respect  which  may  repress  the  abuse  they 
make  of  speech  ;  let  them  see  us  attentive,  careful 
to  verify  facts,  and  always  just  in  our  conduct 
towards  them.  Equity  calls  forth  truth  ;  indeed 
they  are  sisters. 

But  let  us  beware  of  arming  ourselves  with 
these  precautions  in  regard  to  those  who  do  not 
deserve  our  suspicions.  When  we  meet  with  those 
interesting  poor  who  dare  not  reveal  all  the  secrets 
of  their  misfortunes,  let  us  not  be  in  haste  to  wrest 
from  them  their  confidence  by  indiscreet  curiosity ; 
let  us  fear  to  wound  them  ;  let  us  respect  the  mod- 
esty in  which  they  envelope  their  misery  ;  let  them 
see  that  we  honor  in  them  both  misfortune  and  the 
dignity  with  which  they  support  it.  Let  us  not 
violate  the  asylum  in  which  they  have  taken  ref- 
uge i  let  them  open  it  to  us  themselves  ;  let  us 
question  them  but  little  ;  let  us  wait  till  they  are 
ready  to  speak  to  us.  Oh !  who  could  pardon 
himself  for  having  humbled  or  offended  a  sufferer 
by  an  injurious  doubt  ?  On  the  contrary  let  us 
raise  him  in  his  own  eyes  by  our  regard  and  by  the 


92  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

testimony  of  our  esteem  !  We  must  be  able,  on 
proper  occasions,  to  believe  him  upon  his  word ; 
and  to  avoid  that,  which,  under  the  form  of  chari- 
ty, would  express  suspicion. 

We  cannot  prescribe  to  ourselves  too  particu- 
larly, to  observe  respect  in  our  manners  and 
language  towards  those  poor  whose  moral  char- 
acter is  not  degraded.  This  regard  is  due  in  the 
first  place,  to  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  which 
their  misery  cannot  change  ;  and  it  is  due,  also, 
to  their  patience  and  courage.  By  raising  them 
in  their  own  eyes  their  courage  will  be  sustained  ; 
the  bitterness  of  their  sorrows  calmed  ;  they  will 
be  drawn  near  to  us  ;  and  receive  a  certain  and 
delicate  proof  of  our  benevolence  ;  for  benevolence 
is  counted  upon  only  when  it  is  felt  to  be  uni- 
ted with  esteem.  It  is  doubtless  impossible  to  de- 
stroy entirely,  in  the  minds  of  the  poor,  the  impres- 
sions produced  by  the  difference  of  situation  in  which 
Providence  has  respectively  placed  them  and  us. 
But  we  can  weaken  these  impressions,  by  not 
dwelling  too  much  upon  the  circumstances  of  this 
contrast.  We  should  not  call  them  to  be  wit- 
nesses of  our  luxury  and  pleasures.  In  this  point 
of  view,  as  in  many  others,  there  will  be  a  great 
advantage  in  going  to  their  houses   rather  than  in 


OBTAINING  THE   CONFIDENCE  OF  THE  POOR.      93 

receiving  them  at  ours ;  taking  care  at  the  same 
time  that  access  to  our  houses  shall  never  be  de- 
nied them.  Allowing  them  to  approach  us  with 
facility  every  time  they  have  need  of  us,  prevents 
the  most  painful  kind  of  humiliation,  that  which 
arises  from  the  apprehension  of  meeting  a  rebuff. 
But  the  visit  we  make  to  the  poor  man,  in  his 
own  dwelling,  fills  up  this  artificial  gulf  much 
better.  There,  it  is  with  his  situation  alone  that 
we  are  both  occupied  ;  there  he  finds  us  much 
better  disposed  to  listen  to  him ;  there  he  sees  in 
the  conversation  we  hold  with  him,  not  mere 
condescension  on  our  part,  but  the  testimony  of 
sincere  interest.  Let  nothing  in  our  manners  or 
expressions  betray  repugnance  and  disgust  on  our 
part,  at  the  sight  of  the  rags  of  misery.  Let  noth- 
ing announce  either  the  affectation  of  fastidious 
charity,  making  a  merit  of  this  effort,  or  the 
researches  of  suspicious  investigation,  or  the 
secret  springs  of  a  vanity  which  thinks  it  stoops 
by  such  intercourse  !  Every  thing,  in  this  visit, 
must  preserve  on  our  part  the  most  natural  char- 
acter and  the  simplest  forms.  How  much  will 
these  good  people  be  affected !  With  what 
marks  of  attention  will  our  arrival  be  welcomed  ! 
How   radiant    with    joy  will  they   be    at  having 


94 


VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 


us  with  them  as  their  guest,  even  while  exclaiming 
against  the  fatigue  we  have  felt,  and  the  sad  recep- 
tion they  are  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  giving  us 
in  their  miserable  abode. 

Whatever  may  be  the  difference  of  ranks,  let 
us,  as  much  as  is  in  our  power,  feel  ourselves  and 
make  them  feel  the  ties  of  religious  and  moral 
brotherhood.  If  the  poor  man  sees  us  sincerely 
convinced  of  these  sacred  relations,  which  unite 
all  the  members  of  the  human  family,  he  will  be 
more  sensible  of  them  himself,  and  better  able  to 
find  the  means  of  entering  into  communion  with 
us.  We  must  really  love  him ;  this  is  the  whole 
secret.  Misfortune  has  a  truly  wonderful  instinct 
in  discerning  and  recognising  the  affection  which 
is  addressed  to  it.  Let  him  never  be  able  to  fear 
troubling  us  by  his  complaints  !  Let  us  listen  to 
him,  not  only  with  patience,  but  with  favorable 
attention  ;  it  is  one  of  the  traits  by  which  benev- 
olence best  manifests  itself.  Let  us  not  require 
too  much  of  him  ;  let  us  not  refuse  to  enter  into 
the  smallest  details  ;  paternal  solicitude  neglects 
nothing.  We  must  know  how  to  pardon  excusable 
faults,  in  the  midst  of  so  many  unfavorable  circum- 
stances.  Who  would  dare  to  open  his  heart  without 
reserve,  to  tell  and  confess  every  thing,  if  he  were 


OBTAINING  THE   CONFIDENCE   OF  THE  POOR.    95 

not  sure   of  the  indulgence  of  the  listener?     Let 
us   put  ourselves  in   the  place  of  the  poor  man. 
let  us  speak   his  language,  let  us  imagine  that  we 
have  his  habits,  let  us   show  ourselves   seriously- 
occupied  with   all  his   interests  ;    especially  let  us 
associate  ourselves  with  the  interests  of  his  heart ! 
A  caress  bestowed  upon  the  children  will  open  the 
heart  of  the   mother  ;    perhaps  then  she   will  be 
drawn  into  telling  you  a  portion  of  the  griefs  which 
sadden  her  ;    she  will  relate   to   you  different  cir- 
cumstances of  her   life  ;    she   will  show  you   the 
details  of  her  little   family;    she  will   consult  you 
upon  her  fears  and  her  projects  ;    she  will  find  her- 
self relieved  at  the  same  time  that  she  is  enlight- 
ened ;  she  will  not  fear  you  so  much  again.     Re- 
joice  at  having  obtained  this   gentle  victory  over 
her !       Do   not  endeavour  to   know   every    thing 
immediately,  but  do  not  let  this  happy  disposition 
cool ;  return  soon,  resume  naturally  the  course  of 
these    conversations.       They   have    already  pro- 
duced their  fruits,  for  you  have  been  better  ena- 
bled to   give   useful  assistance ;  hereafter  she  will 
be  at  ease  with  you.     Oh  !  what  a  moment  is  that, 
in  which   a  heart  overwhelmed  with  so  many  sor- 
rows,   can    at  last  open    itself  with    freedom   to 
a  heart  which  listens  to  it  and  compassionates  it ! 


96  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

What  consolation  to  the  sufferer  !  What  reward 
to  him  who  relieves  !  It  is  as  if  a  new  power  had 
appeared  upon  earth,  to  protect  humanity  against 
the  attacks  of  grief. 

Even  if  the  poor  man  is  not  overwhelmed  with 
a  sense  of  the  difference  of  situations,  but  pre- 
serves his  self-respect,  —  yet  he  will  perhaps 
inevitably  retain  an  impression  of  it.  But  this 
may  have  a  useful  effect,  giving  us  a  certain  au- 
thority which  we  shall  sometimes  need,  to  lend 
more  credit  to  our  counsels.  It  is  necessary  to 
the  good  order  of  society  that  the  poorer  classes 
should  learn  to  behold  the  more  prosperous  con- 
ditions without  a  feeling  of  bitterness,  and  to  re- 
spect the  distance  which  Providence  has  estab- 
lished between  the  different  ranks  in  society  ;  this 
is  absolutely  necessary  to  the  repose  of  those  who 
belong  to  the  least  favored  conditions.  When 
he  is  disposed  therefore  to  witness  without  bitter- 
ness the  ease  in  which  we  live,  and  to  feel  only 
the  sentiment  inspired  by  a  pure  good  will,  let 
him  approach  us  more  nearly.  From  the  same 
motives  we  should  be  careful  that  our  condescen- 
sion for  the  poor  do  not  degenerate  into  familiarity, 
by  which  we  should  lose  a  portion  of  the  power 
we  exercise  over  them  for  their  advantage.     They 


OBTAINING  THE  CONFIDENCE  OF  THE  POOR.    97 

will  receive  more  advantage  from  us  when  recog- 
nising our  superiority  ;  if  we  should  descend  to 
their  level,  they  would,  perhaps,  abuse  our  con- 
descension. The  poor  on  many  accounts  are  like 
children  ;  they  have  want  of  foresight,  and  are 
ignorant ;  they  easily  allow  themselves  to  be  car- 
ried away ;  they  need  to  be  supported,  restrained, 
directed  ;  they  need  more  than  a  benefactor,  they 
need  an  instructer,  whose  character  may  never 
be  mistaken  by  them. 

Let  us  beware,  however,  of  lavishing  exhortation 
upon  them  ;  and  let  us  not  abandon  ourselves  too 
much  to  our  zeal.  A  few  words  spoken  at  the  right 
moment,  in  a  natural  manner,  will  take  root  if  they 
are  met  by  a  favorable  disposition  of  mind.  But 
long  speeches  and  sermons  would  most  frequently 
oppose  our  end.  He  who  is  hungry  and  thirsty, 
listens  with  little  patience  to  treatises  upon  mo- 
rality. Let  us  act  first,  and  then  reason.  Besides, 
in  the  poorer  conditions  of  society,  minds  are 
more  struck,  in  general,  by  simple  and  concise 
expressions,  and  are  even  incapable  of  fixing  their 
attention  for  a  long  time.  Above  all,  we  must 
avoid  exposing  the  sublime  instructions  of  morality 
to  being  received  with  disgust  and  lassitude.  Let 
us  measure  the  extent  of  our  counsels  by  the  ca- 
9 


98  VISITOR  OF   THE   POOR. 

pacities  of  those  who  are  to  receive  them  ;  let  us 
avoid  the  pedantic  forms  which  would  chill  and  re- 
pel them  ;  let  us  make  plain  the  truths  we  wish  to 
inculcate,  without  allowing  them  to  lose  any  thing 
of  the  dignity  which  is  to  conciliate  their  respect. 
Let  the  poor  man  always  see  in  our  severest  opin- 
ions, a  testimony  of  the  affection  we  bear  him. 

It  is  an  art  then  to  regulate  our  relations 
with  the  poor.  If  we  suppose,  that  with  that  class 
of  individuals  we  can  give  ourselves  up  to  the 
impressions  of  the  moment,  we  are  as  much  de- 
ceived as  if  we  should  think  it  possible  to  act  in 
respect  to  them  by  uniform  and  general  rules. 
Rules  vary  according  to  the  education  of  the 
poor  with  whom  we  have  intercourse,  and  as 
their  habits  are  more  or  less  gross.  They  also 
vary  according  to  the  age  and  sex.  Old  age 
united  to  misery,  deserves  singular  regard  ;  in- 
firmity gives  special  titles  to  indulgence. 

A  certain  experience  of  this  kind  of  intercourse 
can  alone  teach  the  manner  of  so  conducting  it  in 
all  the  different  circumstances  as  to  obtain  either 
the  confidence  of  the  poor,  or  at  least  the  moral 
authority  which  would  be  useful  to  them.  But 
the  habit  of  communication  with  the  poor  may  in 
its  turn  lead  to  some  false  ways  of  seeing  and 


OBTAINING  THE  CONFIDENCE  OF  THE  POOR.  99 

acting ;  there  are  some  poor  so  shameless  and 
degraded,  that  the  disgust  and  loathing  they  in- 
spire, extend  to  all  who  have  the  same  external 
appearance.  If  we  have  often  been  deceived, 
we  may  also  become  suspicious  to  excess.  Some- 
times we  cannot  defend  ourselves  from  the  sad 
impressions  inspired  by  the  sight  of  ingratitude. 
Sometimes  we  are  discouraged,  by  the  failure  of 
our  repeated  efforts  to  snatch  a  poor  man  from 
the  indulgence  of  his  fatal  passions,  and  we  too 
easily  despair  of  cure.  We  are  too  easily  en- 
couraged about  some  things ;  we  follow  routine 
too  much  in  others ;  we  pronounce  too  promptly 
from  our  own  inferences  ;  we  think  ourselves  able 
to  judge  by  a  glance  ;  we  cease  to  scrutinize  with 
the  same  care,  confiding  too  much  in  the  experi- 
ence we  have  acquired. 

One  of  the  dangers  which  we  must  chiefly 
avoid  in  our  intercourse  with  the  poor,  is  the 
facility  of  allowing  ourselves  to  be  deceived  by 
favorable  or  unfavorable  prejudices.  Those  who 
devote  themselves  to  the  honorable  office  of 
relieving  poverty,  too  often  conceive  certain  pre- 
dilections, and  equally  blind  aversions.  The 
tone,  the  air,  the  manners  of  the  poor,  may  ex- 
cite these  capricious    dispositions,  of    which   we 


100  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

do  not  render  to  ourselves  an  account,  and  which 
we  should  unwillingly  confess  to  ourselves.  These 
preferences  result  often  in  real  injustice ;  they 
often  reward  the  cunning  and  the  intriguing.  Be- 
sides, the  poor  man  who  is  suffering  under  exter- 
nal disadvantages,  is  only  the  more  to  be  pitied. 
When  these  preferences  are  perceived  and  felt 
by  the  poor,  they  produce  the  most  fatal  impres- 
sions ;  they  embolden  the  cunning  ;  they  repulse 
those  who  wish  to  make  themselves  known ;  they 
sometimes  excite  sad  animosities  among  the  indi- 
gent ;  they  take  away  from  the  gifts  of  charity, 
the  character  which  was  to  make  them  recognised 
as  such,  and  blessed  in  their  source. 

The  visitor  of  the  poor  must  expect  to  reap 
a  constant  mixture  of  pain  and  pleasure.  He 
will  often  perceive  sad  mistakes  ;  he  will  find 
the  poor  man,  whom  he  wished  to  relieve,  con- 
spire against  his  generous  designs,  convert  reme- 
dies into  poisons,  disconcert  the  wisest  foresight, 
and  sometimes  return  benefits  with  ill  will.  He 
will  be  afflicted  to  find  souls  so  degraded,  that  noth- 
ing can  snatch  them  from  ignominy  ;  so  insensible 
and  unnatural,  that  no  affection  can  move  them. 
We  must  resign  ourselves  to  these  hard  experi- 
ences, that  our  zeal  may   not  be   cooled.      But 


OBTAINING  THE  CONFIDENCE  OF  THE  POOR.  101 

what  is  the  recompense  ?  To  see  nature  revive 
in  spring  and  deck  itself  with  flowers,  is  a  spec- 
tacle less  sweet,  than  to  see  human  beings  awake 
to  virtue.  Is  such  a  power  granted  to  man  ?  can 
such  a  resurrection  be  our  work  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 

EDUCATION  OF  THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  POOR. 

The  more  we  study  the  causes  of  indigence, 
the  more  we  perceive  that  want  of  education  is 
the  chief  cause  of  poverty,  as  well  as  of  crime. 
One  of  the  greatest  services  we  can  render  the 
poor,  then,  is  to  preserve  their  children  from  so 
fatal  an  influence.  A  good  education  will  enable 
these  children  to  support  and  console  their  par- 
ents. Does  it  not  belong  to  our  mission  also  to 
extend  our  solicitude  to  the  whole  family,  and  to 
aid  the  parents  in  fulfilling  one  of  their  first  du- 
ties? 

In  penetrating  into  these  unfortunate  families, 
we  are  sometimes  confounded  as  well  as  pained, 
to  see  the  cruel  indifference  of  children  to  their 
parents.  Unfortunate  old  man  !  I  have  found 
you  alone,  and  abandoned  upon  the  bed  of  pain, 
where  disease  retained  you.  —  Have  you  not  a  son 
or  daughter?  Where  are  they?  Your  tears  an- 
swer. But  if  you  had  procured  them  a  suitable 
education,  should  you  have  been  deserted  thus  ? 
What  did  you  do  for  them  in  their  childhood  ? 


EDUCATION   OF  THE   CHILDREN.  103 

A  good  physical  education,  in  the  poorer  classes 
would  have  the  immense  advantage  of  preventing 
many  diseases,  and  giving  more  force  and  aptitude 
for  labor ;  but  this  is  a  subject  hardly  thought 
of,  and  the  bringing  up  of  children  in  all  those 
things  which  do  not  come  under  the  law  of  ne- 
cessity, is  abandoned  to  chance.  This  neces- 
sity, which  subjects  children  to  privations  and 
fatigue,  tends  to  strengthen  them  in  some  respects  ; 
but  negligence,  bad  management,  and  an  excess  of 
privation  and  fatigue,  tend  on  the  other  hand  to 
enfeeble  their  constitutions. 

The  children  of  the  poor  breathe,  from  their 
cradles,  the  most  unwholesome  air,  in  the  wretched 
habitations  which  serve  as  a  refuge  to  their  parent ; 
they  suffer  almost  all  the  time  from  want  of 
cleanliness,  from  cold  and  dampness,  and  are  ex- 
posed to  a  thousand  accidents.  If  the  mother 
wishes  to  remain  with  them,  she  must  give  up  the 
labor  which  calls  her  from  home  ;  if  she  leaves 
them  in  the  care  of  a  neighbour  or  alone,  they 
may  burn  themselves.  As  soon  as  they  begin  to 
run,  they  perhaps  wander  about  the  streets.  The 
first  education  begins  much  sooner  than  is  com- 
monly supposed.  Before  children  are  of  an  age 
to  go  to  school,  they  receive  daily  impressions,  and 


104  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

contract  numerous  habits,  which  influence  their 
dispositions  and  characters.  The  objects  which 
meet  their  eyes,  the  words  they  hear,  the  exam- 
ples they  witness,  even  their  simple  plays,  are 
a  sort  of  education  ;  we  are  sometimes  aston- 
ished to  see  how  the  germs  of  vice  can  be  devel- 
oped so  early.  On  the  other  hand,  a  taste  for 
order,  attention,  application,  obedience,  the  senti- 
ments of  respect  and  gratitude,  may  take  root 
from  the  earliest  years. 

These  considerations  have  suggested  to  benev- 
olent persons,  the  design  of  collecting  the  children 
of  the  poor,  under  seven  years  of  age,  in  asylums  ; 
where  they  could  be  confided  to  trustworthy  per- 
sons, breathe  a  salubrious  air,  receive  the  neces- 
sary care,  be  kept  neat,  be  trained  to  useful  exer- 
cises, and  gradually  be  initiated  into  those  petty 
labors  which  are  a  preparation  for  the  instruction 
they  are  afterwards  to  receive. 

The  negligence  of  parents  is  not  only  prolonged 
till  the  time  when  children  are  old  enough  to  go 
to  school,  but  after  that  time  they  often  oppose 
a  systematic  and  serious  resistance  to  all  efforts 
that  are  made  in  their  behalf;  they  will  even 
refuse  to  accept  the  favor  of  gratuitous  instruc- 
tion. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE   CHILDREN.  105 

In  every  thing  else,  privations  are  realized ; 
and  bring  a  sense  of  want,  desire,  and  demand. 
It  is  precisely  the  contrary  with  regard  to  instruc- 
tion ;  the  more  it  is  wanted,  the  less  it  is  sought. 
This  is  why  savage  nations  remain  stationary. 
On  the  contrary,  the  more  instruction  there  is, 
the  more  it  is  thirsted  for.  If  the  poor  man  is 
ignorant,  and  this  is  the  condition  of  the  greater 
number,  he  will  not  only  scarcely  have  the  idea 
of  preparing  his  child  to  know  more  than  himself, 
but  he  will  often  show  repugnance  to  allowing  his 
child  this  advantage.  The  eloquent  dissertations 
of  certain  fine  minds  against  popular  education, 
oppose  fewer  obstacles,  than  the  obstinacy  of  an 
ignorant  father,  jealous  of  having  a  son  who  may 
surpass  him,* 


*  I  have  known,  I  think,  more  than  a  thousand  poor 
families ;  and  in  not  a  few  of  these  families  I  have  found 
a  great  insensibility  to  the  importance  of  availing  them- 
selves of  the  means  which  they  have  for  the  education  of 
their  children.  But  I  have  never  known  a  poor  and  igno- 
rant parent  withhold  his  child  from  our  schools,  or  express 
unwillingness  that  he  should  go  to  them,  from  "  a  jealousy 
that  the  child  would  thus  be  raised  above  him."  Some  of 
the  poor  children  who  are  seen  in  our  streets,  were  brought 
to  the  city  by  their  parents  at  an  age  at  which  they  were 


106  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

It  belongs  to  the  visitor  of  the  poor  to  dissi- 
pate so  blind  a  prejudice,  and  to  enlighten  the 
fathers  of  families  upon  their  interests   and   their 


too  old  for  the  primary,  and  could  not  read  well  enough 
for  admission  into  the  grammar  schools.  Some  are  truants. 
Some  have  been  taken  from  school,  that  they  might  earn 
what  they  could  for  the  families  to  which  they  belong ; 
and,  having  lost  the  employment  obtained  for  them,  have 
fallen  into  vagrancy.  And  some  are  children  of  ineffi- 
cient, and  others  of  reckless  parents,  who  think  not  of  the 
education  of  their  children,  and  who  leave  them  exposed 
to  every  contaminating  influence,  only  because  they  are 
themselves  too  ignorant,  or  too  obdurate,  to  perceive  the 
value  of  the  good  which  they  so  lightly  estimate.  If  any 
visitor  of  the  poor  shall  be  led,  by  the  appeals  which  are 
here  made  to  him,  to  the  benevolent  enterprise  of  saving 
one  or  more  of  the  poor  children  among  us,  who  are 
now  on  the  brink  of  ruin,  I  think  that  he  will  find  them  to 
belong  to  one  or  another  of  the  above  named  classes ; 
and  that  the  difficulty  with  which  he  will  have  to  contend, 
in  his  intercourse  with  the  parents,  will  not  be  "  a  jeal- 
ousy," in  any  one,  u  that  his  son  may  surpass  him  ;  "  but, 
either  a  most  painful  lack  of  parental  sensibility;  or,  a 
strong  claim  of  interest  in  the  immediate  labors  of  which 
children  are  capable  ;  or,  inability  in  the  parent  to  control 
the  child;  or,  the  disqualification  of  the  child  for  admission 
into  our  schools.  My  apology  for  this  statement  respect- 
ing the  exposed  and  vicious  children  in  our  city,  is,  that  a 


EDUCATION  OF  THE   CHILDREN.  107 

duties.  It  will  not  be  the  work  of  a  day ;  for  it 
is  difficult  to  persuade  those  who  do  not  wish  to 
be  convinced.  The  visitor  must  not  be  weary  ; 
he  must  seize  every  opportunity  to  place  before 
the  eyes  of  the  ignorant  father  familiar  examples 
which  may  make  him  comprehend  how  useful  it 
would  be  to  his  children,  to  know  how  to  read, 
write,  and  cipher.  "  Why  has  your  neighbour's  son 
been  sought  for  by  the  best  workmen,  and  found 
a  situation  so  advantageous  for  his  apprenticeship  ? 
Is  it  not  by  the  assistance  of  the  honorable  certifi- 
cate he  received  on  leaving  school  ?  How  has 
such  a  young  man,  whom  you  know,  arrived  so 
quickly  to  the  station  of  foreman  ?  Is  it  not  be- 
cause education  had  given  him  more  capacity, 
and  because  he  could  keep  accounts  ?  If  he  had 
had  no  idea  of  linear  drawing  and  calculation, 
could  he  have  been  employed  in  so  productive  a 
manner  by  the  architect,  or  the  contractor,  who 
have  become  attached  to  him  ?     Could  that  man, 


greatly  increased  interest  has  recently  been  excited  in 
the  cause  of  their  salvation ;  and  a  just  perception  of  the 
causes  of  the  condition  in  which  we  find  them  is  impor- 
tant in  view  of  the  measures  which  are  to  be  taken  for 
their  rescue.  J.  T. 


108  VISITOR   OF  THE  POOR. 

whose  profession  is  at  this  moment  paralyzed  by- 
general  circumstances,  have  so  promptly  created 
another  resource,  if  he  had  not  been  benefited  by 
his  education  ?  "  One  day  a  whole  troop  of  little 
wretches  was  condemned  by  the  court  of  assize. 
A  visitor  of  the  poor  was  on  the  jury.  "  Do  you 
wish  to  know,"  said  he  to  a  blinded  father,  "  do 
you  wish  to  know  the  history  of  these  young  crimi- 
nals ?  They  had  been  brought  up  precisely  as  you 
bring  up  your  son ;  they  had  wallowed  in  igno- 
rance. Come  with  me  into  the  prisons  ;  among 
twenty  condemned  youths,  you  will  find  nineteen 
who  do  not  know  how  to  write  or  read.  Behold 
the  future  you  are  preparing  for  your  child,  the 
reward  you  are  preparing  for  yourself."  At  last 
this  visitor  succeeds  in  bringing  back  the  father  to 
more  just  reflections. 

He  leads  this  poor  man  to  observe,  that  with 
a  little  instruction  he  would  not  himself  have 
remained  in  so  subaltern  and  dependent  a  sit- 
uation in  the  work-shop,  that  he  would  more 
easily  find  another  kind  of  work  when  his  ordi- 
nary labor  fails  him  ;  that  he  would  not  have  so 
easily  been  deceived. on  such  an  occasion,  that 
he  would  have  guarded  himself  from  such  or  such 
bad  habit,  that  he  would  have  been  more  faithful  to 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  CHILDREN.       109 

his  duties,  that  he  would  not  have  spent  his  mon- 
ey in  play,  or  his  health  at  the  grog-shop,  etc. 
"  Avoid  then  for  your  child  the  same  dangers ; 
procure  for  him  the  resources  whose  loss  you 
deplore  for  yourself.  You  desire  that  he  may  be 
your  support  in  your  old  age  !  but  do  you  not  feel 
that  the  more  you  do  for  him,  the  more  he  will 
feel  the  necessity  of  acquitting  the  debt  ?  Do  you 
not  see  that  in  becoming  capable  of  instructing 
himself,  he  will  better  learn  his  duties  towards 
you  ?  the  good  he  will  receive,  will  be  diffused 
over  his  whole  family." 

It  is  not  every  thing  to  have  persuaded  the 
parents ;  sometimes  the  children  show  themselves 
rebellious ;  the  children  are  untractable,  wild, 
and  uncontrollable  ;  the  parents  are  effeminate, 
indolent,  and  dissipated.  What  can  be  done  ? 
how  can  they  be  forced  to  go  to  school  ?  they 
will  escape  on  the  way ;  shall  they  be  carried  in 
chains  ?  who  will  take  the  pains  to  carry  them 
there  ?  Our  visitor  is  not  disconcerted.  One 
day  he  takes  the  children  by  the  hand,  and  does 
not  disdain  to  lead  them  himself;  he  introduces 
them  into  a  clean  and  well  arranged  hall ;  there 
they  find  other  happy  children  who  seem  to  divert 
themselves  as  they  work;  they  wish  to  be  in  the 
10 


110  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

play,  and  are  ashamed  not  to  know  how  to  do  it 
so  well.  Our  visitor  lets  them  see  that  they  also 
might  be  happy,  then  gives  them  hope,  and  at 
last  ends  by  procuring  them  this  favor.  The 
little  scholars  are  carried  on  by  the  example  of 
their  comrades  ;  they  insensibly  acquire  a  taste 
for  labor ;  emulation  takes  possession  of  them. 
This  supposes,  it  is  true,  that  a  good  school  has 
been  found,  directed  by  a  capable  master;  but  it 
is  one  of  the  cares  of  the  friend  of  the  poor  to 
choose  the  best  school,  if  there  is  a  choice  to 
make.  He  will  not  stop  there  ;  he  will  recom- 
mend the  new  pupil  to  his  master's  care,  and  will 
promise  to  come  sometimes  to  take  note  of  the 
progress  he  shall  have  made. 

We  may  find  in  another  poor  family  more  solid 
and  sound  ideas  ;  but  the  parents  still  have  their 
objections.  "  The  children  are  already  old  enough 
to  render  some  little  services,  and  will  soon  be 
able  to  enter  upon  apprenticeship ;  the  necessities 
of  the  family  must  be  thought  of,  and  the  succour 
that  has  been  received  must  not  be  abused.  What 
is  the  use  of  sending  them  to  school  ?  they  will 
not  have  time  to  profit  by  it.  By  leaving  them 
there  many  years,  the  embarrassment  would  be 
prolonged."     Yet  if  their  friend  finds  the  means  of 


EDUCATION  OF  THE   CHILDREN.  Ill 

procuring  a  kind  of  instruction,  whose  simplicity 
reconciles  every  thing,  if  he  only  asks  two  or  three 
years  for  the  child  to  learn  to  read,  write,  cipher, 
and  even  to  become  acquainted  with  linear  draw- 
ing, and  understand  weights  and  measures,  be- 
sides learning  the  catechism  perfectly,  will  not 
all  the  objections  be  done  away  with  ?  But  can 
any  establishment  be  found  which  -will  fulfill  these 
conditions  ?  It  does  not  belong  to  me  to  say  ; 
but  I  suppose  this  friend,  who  wishes  the  good 
of  his  proteges,  will  examine  without  prejudice, 
will  seek,  observe  ;  and  I  depend  upon  his  wisdom. 
In  all  cases,  this  is  the  moment  to  reward  the 
parents  for  their  deference  to  our  counsels.  If 
they  deprive  themselves  of  their  children,  it  is 
just  to  indemnify  them  for  the  sacrifice,  by  add- 
ing a  little  to  the  charity  and  assistance  they 
already  receive.  As  for  the  rest,  they  will  soon 
perceive  that  they  have  not  made  a  bad  calcula- 
tion. 

The-  child  is  admitted  to  his  lessons.  Should 
we  depend  entirely  upon  the  fathers  and  mothers 
for  his  improvement  ?  Generally,  in  giving  as- 
sistance (and  by  this  we  do  not  merely  mean 
alms)  which  is  destined  for  children,  if  it  is  neces- 
sary  not    only    to    avoid    breaking    the    ties    of 


112  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

family,  but  on  the  contrary,  to  strengthen  them ; 
if,  consequently,  we  must  avoid,  as  much  as  possi- 
ble, usurping  the  rights  of  fathers  and  mothers, 
and  leaving  them  strangers  to  the  good  which  is 
done  to  their  children,  yet  constant  experience 
teaches  us  that  we  must  not  blindly  give  up  to  the 
parents  ;  their  want  of  foresight,  alas  !  even  their 
selfishness,  is  to  be  feared.  How  many  do  we  see 
who  intercept  what  is  given  them  for  these  little 
creatures?  The  thing  is  painful  to  be  told,  but  it 
is  unfortunately  true.  Such  is  the  fatal  effect  of 
excessive  misery ;  sometimes  it  brutalizes  and 
renders  them  insensible,  and  shuts  their  hearts  to 
the  first  affections.  Nothing  equals  the  indiffe- 
rence of  certain  poor  people  to  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  their  children,  and  if,  as  is  only  too  com- 
mon, their  poverty  has  been  the  consequence  of 
bad  conduct,  if  this  bad  conduct  is  not  yet  entire- 
ly corrected  by  misery  ;  will  not  the  unfortunate 
child,  exposed  to  such  examples,  and  in  such 
society,  lose  the  good  fruits  of  the  instructions  of 
his  master  ?  Without  usurping,  then,  the  rights 
of  fathers  and  mothers,  we  will  supply  their  want 
of  vigilance  ;  we  will  often  go  to  visit  the  poor 
little  pupils  at  school ;  when  they  return  to  the 
paternal   roof,  we  will  go  too ;  we  will  ask  them, 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  CHILDREN.       113 

in   the  presence  of  their  parents,  what  they  have 
learnt,  and    what   has    been    their  conduct;    we 
will   give  them   some  little   encouragement,  some 
rewards    perhaps,     but    the    choice     of    rewards 
and  punishments  is  very  important  in   childhood. 
It  requires  much  discernment,  and  what  can  we 
expect    from    rude    and    ignorant  parents   in   this 
respect  ?      They   will  punish  their  children  with 
brutality,    in    caprice    and    ill   humor.      We    will 
gently  interpose   to   overcome  this   evil  influence. 
Let  us  make   these  little  beings  hear  the  language 
of  reason,  by  putting  it  within  their  reach  ;  let  the 
language  we  hold   to  them  be  indirectly  addressed 
to  the  parents.     When  they  witness  the  improve- 
ment of  their  children   and  the   interest  they  in- 
spire, will  they  not  be  tempted   to  imitate  them  ? 
will  not  the  sentiments  of  nature  begin  to  revive  ? 
How  often  have   we  seen  virtuous  children,  who 
have  become  such  by  good  education,  exercising 
over  those  from  whom  they  received  life,  this  sal- 
utary influence  ;    and  thus   reversing  the  order  of 
good  examples,    producing    a   reform  which  had 
been    vainly   attempted    by    the    most    eloquent 
preaching  ? 

Poor  children  !     When  you  return  home  after 
having  tasted  some  hours  of  innocent  happiness 
10* 


114  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

among  your  comrades,  and  in  the  activity  of  oc- 
cupation ;  when  you  return  bearing  a  testimony 
of  the  satisfaction  of  your  masters,  if  you  see  the 
friend  and  protector  of  your  family  coming,  with 
what  joy  you  will  run  to  show  him  the  certificate 
which  declares  your  progress,  or  the  scale  of  your 
lessons.  He  smiles  upon  you,  and  this  smile 
is  your  reward.  You  like  to  relate  to  him  all  you 
do,  and  he  listens  to  you  with  benevolence.  He 
will  continue  to  be  your  support  and  guide  ;  he 
will  interest  himself  to  find  and  choose  a  situation 
for  you  ;  his  children  will  continue  the  work  he 
has  begun  ;  he  is  Providence  made  visible  to  you, 
and  his  beneficent  influence  will  embrace  the 
whole  course  of  your  life. 

What  is  to  be  done  for  this  young  man,  and  this 
young  woman,  who  have  already  passed  the  age 
at  which  they  can  be  sent  to  shcool,  and  whose 
education  has  been  entirely  neglected  ?  "  It  is  too 
late  ;  they  must  work  ;  and  we  cannot  subject 
them  to  the  mortification  of  putting  them  upon  the 
benches  with  little  children.''  However,  if  they 
knew  how  to  read,  write,  and  cipher,  what  new  re- 
sources would  be  opened  to  them  to  assist  their 
aged  parents  and  themselves  !  There  is  for  these 
an    unexpected    resource.      Their    friend    finds   a 


EDUCATION  OF  THE   CHILDREN.  115 

school  for  adults,  which  is  kept  during  the  winter 
evenings  ;  or  a  sunday  school,  where  they  refresh 
themselves  after  the  labor  of  the  week  by  an  oc- 
cupation of  a  new  kind,  and  one  which  has  to  them 
all  the  attraction  of  novelty.  They  make  profi- 
table use  of  the  moments  which  might  perhaps 
have  been  dissipated  in  idleness  or  badly  employ- 
ed ;  good  moral  habits  are  thus  preserved,  while 
they  acquire  useful  knowledge  ;  even  good  man- 
ners are  gained,  and  acquaintance  is  made  with 
estimable  companions.  Blessings  never  come 
single.* 

*  We  have. known  poor  workmen,  after  having  passed 
some  months  in  a  school  for  adults,  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
overseer  with  a  double  salary,  because  they  were  able  to 
draw  up  the  register  of  the  work.  There  is  hardly  any 
profession  in  which  the  workman  who  knows  how  to  read, 
write,  and  cipher,  docs  not  advance  more  rapidly  for  it. 
In  all  the  mechanical  arts,  the  elements  of  drawing-  will 
also  be  of  peculiar  advantage  to  him.  Indeed  the  in- 
struction he  acquires  by  reading,  gives  him,  by  devel- 
oping his  intellect,  more  capacity  to  comprehend,  conduct, 
and  execute  all  the  operations  of  industry.  There  are 
many  schools  of  this  kind  in  Paris  for  men,  and  one  for 
women,  which  produce  the  most  satisfactory  results.  They 
were  first  suggested  by  a  report  from  M.  le  due  Mathieu 
de  Montmorency,  sent  to  the  Society  for  elementary  in- 
struction. 


116  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

But  where  are  these  schools  for  adults  and 
these  Sunday  schools  ?  If  there  is  not  one  within 
reach,  the  visitor  of  the  poor,  who  has  daily  felt 
the  want  of  one,  may  suggest  the  idea  of  it  and 
unite  with  other  good  people  to  establish  one. 

The  cares  which  the  friend  of  the  poor  bestows 
upon  the  poor  family  do  not  stop  here  ;  there  are 
two  other  kinds  of  service  in  which  he  may  take 
a  still  more  direct  part,  and  which  are  not  less 
essential. 

The  first  concerns  apprenticeship.  Here,  as 
in  so  many  other  things,  poverty  opposes  obsta- 
cles to  the  remedies  which  would  come  in  aid 
of  it.  That  skill  in  labor  which  is  to  procure  a 
future  subsistence  for  children,  and  become  per- 
haps a  resource  for  the  whole  family,  is  only  to 
be  acquired  by  money.  The  trades  which  are 
learnt  at  the  least  expense,  are  also  the  least 
lucrative.  There  are  many  things  to  be  taken  into 
consideration  also  in  the  choice  of  a  trade.  Let  us 
consult,  first  of  all,  the  physical  and  intellectual 
capacity  of  the  youth.  It  is  hardly  credible  how 
much  dispositions  vary  in  this  respect,  and  how 
much  this  variety  influences  the  success  which 
each  individual  obtains  in  his  profession. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE   CHILDREN.  117 

Often  he  who  is  unfit  for  one  career,  might 
succeed  perfectly  in  another  ;  one  is  skilful,  anoth- 
er is  strong ;  one  is  fit  for  sedentary  labors,  anoth- 
er for  motion  and  external  activity.  Let  us  con- 
sult the  inclinations  also,  for  people  do  better 
what  they  like  to  do,  and  thus  do  more.  There  are 
trades  more  or  less  healthy,  and  their  dangers  are 
more  or  less  felt,  according  to  the  temperament  of 
those  who  follow  them.  It  is  doubtless  necessary 
to  examine  what  trades  are  the  most  productive  ; 
but  it  is  important  to  examine,  at  the  same  time, 
whether  these  trades  are  not  subject  to  vicissi- 
tudes, and  if  in  some  circumstances  they  are 
not  suddenly  stopped.  Besides,  there  are  occu- 
pations which  may  expose  to  dangers  of  another 
sort,  and  which  are  pernicious  to  good  morals. 
This  consideration  applies  particularly  to  occu- 
pations for  girls.  It  is  only  after  taking  all  these 
views,  that  the  choice  should  be  made.  But  will 
the  father  and  mother  of  a  family  give  the  sub- 
ject all  the  attention  it  deserves  ?  Will  they, 
besides,  be  capable  of  comparing  and  judging 
well?  Will  not  the  occasion  decide  for  them? 
This  is  a  kind  of  counsel  which  it  belongs  to  the 
visitor  of  the  poor  to  give,  and  which  will  at  least 
be  received  without  suspicion.       But,    after   the 


118  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

first  choice,  that  of  the  trade,  there  remains  a 
second  to  be  made,  that  of  the  master,  and  this 
last  is  not  less  delicate  or  less  essential ;  for  upon 
this  depends  the  skill  of  the  apprentice  and  the 
morality  of  his  character  ?  Place  him  only  where 
he  will  receive  good  examples.  Information 
concerning  the  comrades  with  whom  he  will  be 
connected  should  also  be  sought.  Here  again 
the  poor  will  find  themselves  embarrassed.  They 
have  not  sufficiently  extensive  intercourse,  and 
enough  sagacity,  to  direct  themselves  in  this  de- 
termination. The  visitor  will  have  ideas  upon 
the  subject  by  which  the  poor  can  profit ;  he 
will  besides  have  an  opportunity  of  procuring 
information,  and  he  has  a  thousand  ways  of  getting 
at  the  facts.  Good  masters  are  naturally  very 
difficult  in  the  choice  of  apprentices  ;  the  visitor 
of  the  poor  will  interpose  to  obtain  for  his  young 
protege  the  favor  of  being  received  into  an  hon- 
est family,  by  a  skilful  master,  and  will  obtain 
for  him  a  favorable  reception.  Perhaps  he  will 
place  the  apprentice  with  a  workman  who  labors 
habitually  for  himself,  and  in  this  way  he  will 
still  be  able  to  have  his  eyes  upon  the  appren- 
tice. The  contract  of  the  apprenticeship  is  to 
be  drawn  up.    Here  the   father,   ignorant  or  nar- 


EDUCATION  OF  THE   CHILDREN.  119 

row-minded,  may  cause  difficulties ;  or  neccessity 
may  constrain  him   to  accept  too  hard  conditions. 
We  must  come  to  his  assistance,  and  enlighten 
him  concerning    the    inconveniences    which    may 
one    day    spring   up  from   engagements    that    are 
ill  arranged.      Sometimes   we  must  procure   him 
the  means  of  furnishing  some  portion  of  the  ex- 
pense required  for  the   subsistence,   maintenance, 
and  instruction  of  the   apprentice;  and  thus  ren- 
der   accessible    occupations    which    might    have 
been  shut  out  from  him  ;  at  other  times,  we  shall 
abridge   the    duration   of  gratuitous  labor   due  to 
his  master  as  an  indemnity,  when  his  instruction  is 
ended.    For  there  are  two  ways  of  stipulating  a 
contract     of  apprenticeship  ;    sometimes  the    ap- 
prentice   receives,  gratuitously   from    his    master, 
instruction,  lodging,  nourishment,  &c.  but  on  the 
condition  of  afterwards   giving  some   years   of  his 
labor    without   wages ;    sometimes   the  master  is 
to    receive    an    annual    sum,   or    a  sum    propor- 
tioned to  the  expense   incurred  for   the   appren- 
tice, and  then  the  duration  of  the  time  is  abridg- 
ed, during  which  he  is  to  receive  no  wages.     Six 
or  seven  years  is  the  longest  term   which  is  stip- 
ulated for  in  the  former  case,  before   the   appren- 
tice begins  to  earn  something ;  two  hundred  franks 


120  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

a  year  is  the  ordinary  salary  in  the  other  case. 
There  are  several  essential  provisions,  which  the 
vigilant  friend  will  have  inserted  in  the  contract ; 
the  master  must  engage  to  treat  the  child  well, 
to  make  him  do  his  duty,  to  let  him  sleep 
alone,  not  to  teach  him  any  other  trade  than  the 
one  agreed  upon,  not  to  employ  him  in  other 
occupations  which  would  divert  him  from  it ;  the 
privilege  of  habitual  watchfulness  should  be  al- 
lowed to  the  parents,  and  even  to  their  friendly 
visitor,  and  consequently  the  power  of  seeing  the 
child  whenever  they  desire  it ;  a  provision  must 
be  made  for  the  contract  to  be  annulled  in  cer- 
tain circumstances ;  the  parents  should  be  author- 
ized to  withdraw  their  child,  not  only  if  the  con- 
ditions are  not  fulfilled,  but  if  the  health  of  the  child 
should  be  impaired,  if  he  should  not  succeed  as 
well  as  has  been  expected  in  the  trade  chosen 
for  him,  if  his  morals  are  exposed  to  any  danger, 
if  the  character  of  the  master  is  not  suitable  to  the 
particular  case  ;  and  the  conditions  on  which  this 
dissolution  should  take  place,  should  be  agreed 
upon  beforehand. 

Here  we  ought  to  point  out  to  the  solicitude  of 
the  visitor  of  the  poor  a  serious  danger. 


EDUCATION  OF  THE   CHILDREN.  121 

The  developement  of  industry  in  certain  coun- 
tries has  produced  a  great  demand  even  for  very- 
young  children  who  are  employed  in  manual  labor 
that  requires  neither  much  vigor,  nor  much  in- 
telligence ;  but  the  avarice  of  certain  manufac- 
turers abuses  the  strength  of  these  little  creatures  ; 
they  are  exhausted  by  fatigue  ;  they  neither  leave 
them  time  for  school,  nor  for  rest ;  hardly  enough 
to  eat  a  hasty  morsel,  or  to  take  hurried  sleep. 
These  little  creatures  languish  with  exhaustion  ; 
and  their  health  suffers  as  much  as  their  characters 
and  education.  Yet  the  pressing  wants  of  some  pa- 
rents, the  cupidity  of  others,  and  the  wrant  of  fore- 
sight in  many,  deliver  up  these  young  creatures  to 
this  fatal  regimen.  This  abuse  has  been  carried  so 
far  in  England,  that  an  express  law  was  required  for 
its  suppression  ;  a  bill  was  passed  a  year  ago  to 
regulate  the  maximum  of  the  task  which  should  be 
imposed  upon  children  in  manufactories.  In 
France,  though  some  workshops  have  presented 
so  sad  a  spectacle,  we  hope  the  legislative  author- 
ity will  not  be  necessary  to  restrain  it,  and  that 
the  power  of  manners  and  the  authority  of  public 
opinion  will  be  sufficient  to  arrest  the  evil  in  its 
birth.  However,  the  friend  who  watches  over  the 
family  of  the  poor,  will  watch  over  the  child  who  is 
11 


122  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

employed  in  a  manufactory,  that  he  may  not  be 
exposed  to  become  the  victim  of  excessive  fa- 
tigue. 

The  capacity  and  skill  of  a  child  must  not  be 
measured  by  the  money  he  earns.  In  certain 
places  a  child  can  earn  from  two  to  three  francs  a 
day  by  picking  up  bones  for  the  fabrication  of 
animal  carbon ;  but  what  will  he  have  learnt  ? 
It  is  often  the  most  false  speculation,  as  to  the  real 
interest  of  a  family,  to  be  too  hasty  in  obtaining 
profit  from  the  labor  of  these  little  creatures  ;  in 
that,  as  in  many  other  things,  it  is  sacrificing  the 
future  to  the  present. 

What  regret  should  we  feel,  if  this  education 
we  give  to  the  children  of  the  poor  should  one  day 
prove  a  fatal  present  to  them ;  if  on  visiting  their 
abodes  we  should  find  bad  books  in  their  hands  ! 
It  may  at  least  happen  that  the  education  will  be 
useless  to  them  ;  to  know  how  to  read  is  but  to 
possess  an  instrument.  We  have  not  yet  finished 
our  work  then,  and  now  comes  the  greatest  service 
we  are  called  upon  to  render  ;  a  service  which  will 
crown  all  the  others,  and  which  the  indigent  parent 
is  least  capable  of  performing.  We  must  procure 
for  these  children  profitable  and  suitable  reading. 
They  have  very  little  time  to  read,  it  is  true ;  this 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  CHILDREN.       123 

is  one  reason  more  why  they  should  read  nothing 
but  what  is  good,  and  that  the  aliment  which 
is  offered  them  should  be  substantial  and  solid. 
Moral  and  religious  reading  will  occupy  the  first 
place  ;  but  we  advise  that  this  serious  reading  be 
sometimes  tempered  by  interesting  and  agreeable 
treatises,  rendered  familiar  and  easy  to  be  under- 
stood, that  they  may  become  a  recreation  at  the 
same  time  that  they  are  a  means  of  improvement. 
We  may  also  add  to  these  some  little  elementary 
books  in  which  those  readers,  who  belong  to  the 
laboring  classes,  may  find  some  descriptions  of 
creation,  some  simple  and  easy  information  con- 
cerning the  phenomena  of  nature,  and  the  history 
of  their  country  ;  some  counsels  which  may  guide 
them  in  the  direction  of  their  little  affairs,  in  the 
precautions  demanded  by  health,  in  the  succours 
and  remedies  for  the  most  common  accidents. 
Such  works,  though  they  ought  to  be  the  most 
common,  are  not  abundant.  The  poor  hardly 
know  of  their  existence,  and  cannot  select  them  ; 
if  such  works  are  indeed  too  rare,  it  is  partly 
because  means  are  wanting  to  diffuse  them  among 
the  poorer  classes.  The  visitor  of  the  poor  must 
be  as  it  were  a  channel  through  which  useful  com- 
munications are  formed  between  the  enlightened 


124  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

classes  and  those  which  are  not  so ;  he  will  assist 
in  imparting  to  them  the  kind  and  degree  of 
knowledge  their  situation  claims.  By  his  means 
therefore  the  education  of  the  poor  man's  child, 
though  necessarily  limited,  may  become  productive 
of  good  effects,  which  will  last  through  his  life.  He 
will  thus  not  only  have  assisted  those  who  are  now 
indigent,  but  he  will  have  arrested  in  their 
source  causes  which  might  multiply  their  number. 
How  do  we  know  that  among  those  who  enjoy 
the  benefits  of  this  education  there  may  not  be 
one,  who,  endowed  with  remarkable  qualities,  may, 
from  having  the  opportunity  to  develope  and 
cultivate  them,  and  to  embrace  the  career  for 
which  they  fit  him,  make  for  himself  a  path  to 
unexpected  success,  and  rise  to  an  honorable 
station  in  society.  There  are  examples  of  this, 
and  there  might  be  more  if  every  one  could 
follow,  in  the  choice  of  an  occupation,  his  natural 
disposition,  and  receive  all  the  assistance  which 
may  render  him  capable  of  performing  it  well.  But 
these  extraordinary  phenomena  are  not  neces- 
sary to  reward  the  generous  friend  of  the  indi- 
gent family ;  it  is  sufficient  that  each  member  of 
these  families  fulfills  well,  in  the  humble  sphere 
which  is  assigned  to  him,  the  part  to  which  Prov- 


EDUCATION  OF  THE  CHILDREN.  125 

idence  calls  him,  and  comports  himself  as  an 
honest  and  a  useful  man.  This  is  what  the  true 
interest  of  the  family  and  the  general  order  of 
society  demands  ;  the  end  is  attained. 


11* 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


When  I  see  a  beggar,  a  sentiment  of  compas- 
sion seizes  me.  But  a  painful  doubt  arises  in 
my  heart.  Is  the  image  that  meets  my  sight 
a  reality,  or  an  artifice  ?  #  The  question  is  a  se- 
rious one. 

There  is  not  a  moral  contrast  in  the  world 
more  marked,  than  that  which  exists  between 
the  pretended  poor  who  beg  from  calculation, 
and  the  truly  indigent  who  are  reduced  to  beg- 
ging. The  first  class  deserves  our  indignation ; 
the  second  has  a  right  to  our  benevolence  and 
even  to  our  respect. 

One  class  is  the  refuse  of  society.  Idleness, 
debauchery,  falsehood,  cunning,  effrontery,  and 
all  the  vices  are  personified  in  it.  Nothing  but 
courage  is   wanting,  perhaps,  to  make   those  who 

*  The  number  of  beggars  in  Europe  is  computed  at 
17  millions.  The  population  is  178  millions  ;  we  suppose 
that  this  proportion  is  3  to  100  in  Denmark,  14  to  100  in 
Holland,  16  to  100  in  England. 


BEGGING.  127 

compose  it  become  great  criminals.  Human  na- 
ture suffers  in  them  the  deepest  degradation. 
Perhaps  the  children  you  see  with  the  beggar 
are  not  his  own !  Perhaps  he  has  stolen 
them,  and  lets  them  languish  in  hunger,  that  the 
sight  of  them  may  melt  your  heart !  The  mala- 
dy of  beggary  is  almost  incurable  ;  for  when  de- 
basement has  become  a  habit,  and  even  a  pleas- 
ure, it  is  difficult  to  rise  from  it.  But  there  are 
real  sufferers,  sinking  under  the  weight  of  misfor- 
tune, who,  having  exhausted  all  resources,  are 
abandoned,  without  relations,  friends,  or  protec- 
tors, and  have  been  constrained  by  despair  to 
have  recourse  to  public  pity.  Judicious  aid  may 
save  these.  If  they  contract  the  habit  of  beg- 
ging, they  will  fall  into  vices  and  disorders  to 
which  they  have  hitherto  not  yielded.  What  is 
to  be  done  in  this  uncertainty  ?  The  beggar  is 
absolutely  unknown  to  me.  In  giving  him  any- 
thing, I  run  the  risk  of  rewarding  and  encouraging 
turpitude.  In  refusing  him,  I  run  the  risk  of  being 
barbarous  towards  one  of  my  brethren,  who  has 
every  title  to  my  affection.  This  is  what  each 
one  of  us  feels  and  says  to  himself,  every  time  he 
meets  a  beggar,  without  being  able  to  find  a  solu- 
tion of  the   difficulty.     It   is  one  of  the    serious 


128  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

evils  of  beggary,  that  it  causes  such  cruel  embar- 
rassment to  honest  people  ;  for  whatever  they  may 
do,  they  are,  in  spite  of  themselves,  exposed  to 
do  harm,  and  to  go  directly  against  their  own 
intentions.  Taking  advantage  of  this  uncertainty, 
those  who  are  out  of  work,  those  who  lead  a  bad 
life,  and  the  entirely  idle,  come  and  deceive  the 
benevolence  of  the  generous.  By  this  uncertainty, 
those  who  are  worthy  of  moving  our  compassion, 
are  threatened  with  our  disdain,  and  our  most 
unjust  prejudices.  Public  pity  is  also  led  astray, 
or  becomes  cooled.  And  the  selfish  find  a  spe- 
cious pretext  for  justifying  their  refusal.  Indus- 
try loses  its  arms,  misfortune  its  resources.  The 
crafty  alone  profit  by  it. 

Yet  shall  we  hazard  nothing  to  relieve  ourselves 
from  this  perplexity  ?  Instead  of  giving  alms  to 
this  beggar,  instead  of  refusing  him,  let  us  ask  his 
name  and  address.  —  "What,  shall  I  put  this 
question  to  all  the  beggars  I  meet  in  my  way  ? 
Am  I  going  to  draw  up  their  statistics  ?  For  the 
employment  of  a  penny,  which  is  the  object  of 
my  hesitation,  shall  I  lose  hours  in  researches  for 
information  ?  "  Perhaps  you  will  not  lose  them  ; 
try  it  once  ;  perhaps  you  will  obtain  precious 
light ;  perhaps  you   will  be  called  upon  to  render 


BEGGING.  129 

a  great  service.  But  I  agree  that  my  advice  is 
difficult  to  act  upon  habitually ;  I  only  wish  to 
show  the  fundamental  truth  which  is  to  preside 
over  this  difficult  matter  ;  it  is  this,  that  a  good 
system  for  visiting  the  poor  at  home,  is  the  sure 
means,  and  the  only  sure  means,  of  preventing 
the  uncertainty  which  we  have  just  expressed, 
and  all  the  evil  consequences  it  brings. 

Suppose  then  that  I  have  taken  the  name  and 
address  of  the  beggar.  If  he  has  given  me  a 
faithful  direction,  I  shall  soon  be  enlightened. 
If  he  has  directed  me  wrong,  it  is  an  almost  cer- 
tain proof  that  he  is  unworthy.  If  the  police 
should  point  out  to  me  any  of  the  taverns  where 
this  sort  of  people  meet,  perhaps  I  should  find 
there  the  pretended  sick  man,  (who  had  appeared 
to  me  emaciated  with  suffering,)  in  very  good  health, 
participating  in  some  carousal  with  his  fellows. 
This  indeed  is  what  happens  every  day.  The 
trade  of  begging  is  often  very  lucrative  in  Paris, 
as  I  am  assured  by  persons  who  are  well  inform- 
ed.    It  is  worth  from  nine  to  ten  franks  per  day. 

Some  magistrates,  in  order  to  deliver  the  pub- 
lic from  uncertainty,  have  thought  of  reserving  the 
permission  to  beg  to  certain  poor  people,  well 
known   by   them    as  such?    and   bearing   a    dis- 


130  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

tinctive  sign.  But  this  measure,  while  prevent- 
ing one  evil,  would  preserve  many  others  ;  it  also 
would  leave  room  for  injustice  ;  for  alms,  blindly 
distributed,  cannot  be  in  proportion  to  the  real 
wants. 

There  are   sometimes   beggars  of  high  preten- 
sions,  beggars    who   might  be   called  good  com- 
pany ;  who  present  themselves   in  houses  with  a 
decent  appearance,  with   the  air  and  manner  of 
respectable  condition.     These  have    experienced 
great    disasters ;    they   need    proportionate    assis- 
tance ;  they  know  you,  but  you  do  not  know  them. 
During  the  few  last  years,  these  greatly  multipli- 
ed in  Paris,  taking    advantage  of  circumstances. 
Some  were  emigrants,   who  returned  in  the  train 
of  our  princes,  and  had   sacrificed  every  thing  for 
the  good  cause.     Others  had  been  in  office  under 
the  former  government,  and  had  lost  their  places. 
They  were    furnished  with  a  multitude  of  papers  ; 
there  was  no  end  to  their  history.     In  reality  they 
were  most  frequently   sharpers.     How  could   one 
politely  get  rid  of  a  person,  who   introduced  him- 
self thus  into  one's  closet  ?     How  express  to  him 
injurious    doubts  ?     Yet    you    cannot    refuse    him 
a  donation   without  accusing  him  of  lying  to  you. 
Take  his  address  then.     It   will  be  refused  per- 


BEGGING.  131 

haps  under  various  pretexts.  Then  be  sure  that 
he  is  deceiving  you,  and  become  severe.  Per- 
haps in  giving  you  his  address,  he  will  represent 
to  you  that  he  cannot  wait  for  your  assistance  an 
hour,  an  instant  ;  that  he  is  fasting,  that  the  thing 
is  urgent.  Then  be  so  much  the  more  upon  your 
guard.  Hasten,  if  necessary,  an  hour  afterwards, 
to  the  place  assigned ;  it  is  a  hundred  to  one  that 
the  person  is  unknown  there.  It  may  be  oth- 
erwise ;  but  we  often  see  that  your  question  alone 
has  disconcerted  the  suppliant,  and  made  him 
take  flight. 

The  most  deplorable  effects  of  beggary  would 
disappear,  if  we  could  succeed  in  making  with 
certainty,  among  those  who  ask,  the  distinction 
and  separation  between  those  who  tell  the  truth 
and  those  who  deceive.  But  visiting  the  poor 
at  their  houses  is  the  essential  means  of  the  only 
practicable  system  for  the  repression  of  beggary. 

There  is  perhaps  no  subject  relative  to  public 
administration  which  has  given  birth  to  so  many 
writings  and  projects,  as  the  extinction  and  re- 
pression of  beggary.  Men  of  superior  merit  have 
treated  this  question  thoroughly,  and  yet,  in  the 
different  countries  of  Europe,  this  branch  of  ad- 
ministration is  still  very  defective.     Far  from  us 


132  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

be  the  wish  to  reproduce  here,  and  to  discuss, 
what  has  been  said  upon  the  subject ;  I  shall  con- 
fine myself  to  two  reflections  which  are  closely 
allied  to  the  considerations  contained  in  this  work. 
The  first  is,  that  in  vain  shall  we  attempt  to  re- 
press beggary,  if  we  do  not,  first  of  all,  provide 
suitable  institutions  where  the  poor  may  find  work, 
if  they  are  yet  able  to  work,  or  aid,  if  unable  ; 
and  secondly,  that  the  repression  of  beggary  will 
become  very  easy,  if  this  double  object  can  be 
successfully  provided  for.  In  short,  we  can  neith- 
er prevent  nor  extinguish  beggary,  unless,  by  the 
active  and  regular  investigation  of  the  situation  of 
the  poor,  we  go  back  to  the  causes  of  beggary, 
and  determine  exactly,  by  these  means,  the  real 
wants  which  it  is  the  object  to  satisfy. 

Yet  for  the  most  part  it  has  been  thought  de- 
sirable to  begin  just  where  we  ought  to  end. 
Rarely,  have  the  regulations  made  against  beggary 
been  preceded,  as  they  ought  to  have  been,  by  a 
good  regimen  of  visiting  and  succouring  the  poor  in 
their  own  homes.  Nothing  shows  more  clearly  the 
truths  laid  down  here,  than  the  experience  derived 
from  the  attempts  already  made  upon  this  subject. 

There  were  formerly  in  France  many  alms- 
houses ;  there  were   also   at  the  same  time  many 


BEGGING.  133 

beggars.  In  these  houses,  vagabonds,  or  those 
who  were  deemed  such,  were  shut  up  at  discre- 
tion. But  seizures  could  only  be  made  with 
precaution  and  secrecy ;  the  beggars  were  pro- 
tected by  public  pity ;  and  how  could  it  be  other- 
wise ?  Public  pity  cannot  make  discriminations ; 
it  believes  in  the  reality  of  the  miseries  of  which 
it  sees  the  outward  signs.  The  people  every 
where  take  an  interest  in  beggars,  and  embrace 
their  cause  against  the  measures  of  government, 
because  they  are  especially  struck  by  appearances. 
Under  the  imperial  government  a  vast  plan  was 
put  in  execution.  At  a  great  expense,  an  alms- 
house was  erected  in  every  department  ;  nothing 
was  wanting  in  them  ;  extensive  edifices,  local 
arrangements,  annual  donations,  and  internal  regu- 
lations. But  it  had  been  forgotten  to  make  the 
previous  discrimination  in  order  to  provide  for  the 
wants  of  real  indigence.  And  the  alms-houses 
suffered  from  the  same  uncertainty  which  strikes 
the  spectator  at  sight  of  the  beggar,  and  which 
we  described  a  moment  ago.  No  one  knew 
whether  they  were  houses  of  charity  or  houses  of 
correction.  They  were  at  first  both  at  once. 
But,  as  a  house  of  correction,  why  shut  up  in  it 
the  poor  man  who  could  have  been  more  suitably 
12 


134  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR, 

assisted  in  the  bosom  of  his  family  ?  As  houses 
of  charity,  they  offered  a  much  too  easy  exis* 
tence  to  vagabonds.  The  provision  in  some  of 
these  houses  was  so  agreeable  and  so  abundant, 
that  admission  to  them  was  solicited  as  a  favor  ; 
in  other  words  they  became  a  premium  to  idle- 
ness. It  was  perceived,  however,  on  trial,  that 
the  people  who  were  to  be  relieved,  and  those 
who  were  to  be  corrected,  were  united  together 
under  the  same  mode  of  treatment ;  that  hence, 
either  the  former  were  unjustly  condemned,  or  the 
latter  unjustly  rewarded.  Two  and  sometimes 
three  separate  departments  were  thus  formed  in 
every  alms-house,  without  any  intercommunication, 
to  be  regulated  and  governed  in  a  totally  different 
manner.  Thus  was  confessed  the  error  committed 
in  the  beginning.  But  few  years  passed,  before 
the  general  councils  of  the  departments,  tired  with 
the  enormous  expense,  and  struck  by  seeing  that 
these  establishments  did  not  fulfill  their  destination, 
suppressed  them.  "They  committed  a  second 
fault  in  doing  this.  It  would  have  been  better 
to  find  out  why  these  alms-houses  did  not  ful- 
fill their  end  ?  They  would  have  perceived  that 
the  fault  was  not  in  the  alms-houses  themselves ; 
that  the   cause  was    in  the    imperfection   of  the 


BEGGING.  135 

general  system  of  humane  establishments.  They 
would  thus  have  been  led  to  do  great  good,  by 
preserving  what  existed,  and  by  rendering  it  useful. 
Some  departments,  however,  have  had  the  spirit 
to  maintain  the  alms-houses,  which  they  had 
founded  with  so  much  expense.  May  they  truly 
comprehend  the  means  of  drawing  the  greatest 
advantage  from  them  ! 

What  is,  in  fact,  intended  to  be  realized  in  an 
alms-house  ?  Is  it  a  work-house  for  the  steady, 
laborious  poor,  who  really  are  in  want  of  work  ? 
Then  conceive  it  in  that  spirit ;  and  above  all,  let 
it  offer  only  an  absolutely  indispensable  resource  ; 
let  it  be  opened  only  to  those  who  cannot  be 
relieved  by  private  industry  ;  let  it  not  interfere 
with  the  progress  of  this  industry.  Is  it  wished, 
on  the  contrary,  to  make  a  house  of  correction 
for  the  idle  ?  Then  let  it  be  wholly  directed  by  a 
severe  intention  of  reform ;  and  let  only  those  be 
carried  to  it  to  whom  this  discipline  is  necessary. 
Is  it  a  sort  of  refuge  for  the  old  and  infirm  ?  Ex- 
amine then  whether  the  hospitals  are  not  sufficient, 
or  if  it  would  not  be  better  to  succour  these  un- 
fortunate persons  in  their  families  ;  and  if  you  then 
think  you  ought  to  persist,  agree  with  yourselves 
and  the  public  to  found  a  supplementary  hospital, 


136  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

But  in  either  case,  as  a  preliminary  condition, 
establish  a  good  organization  of  means  for  studying 
the  situation  of  the  poor ;  and  for  effecting,  by  the 
aid  of  an  enlightened  examination,  the  necessary 
distinction  between  the  different  classes.  At  Pa- 
ris, where  the  administration  of  Secours  a  domi- 
cile* has  received  such  a  perfect  organization, 
there  is  hardly  an  indigent  person  to  be  met  with 
among  those  admitted  to  the  charity  offices,  who 
dares  to  beg,  and  we  see  no  beggars  present  them- 
selves at  the  charity  offices  to  be  inscribed  and 
assisted.  Beggars  compose  a  separate  class,  and 
draw  too  much  profit  from  the  trade  they  exercise 
not  to  disdain  the  feeble  assistance  which  would 
be  granted  them  at  the  charity  offices,  and  espe- 
cially not  to  avoid  subjecting  themselves  to  the 
investigations  which  would  be  the  condition  of 
their  receiving  it. 

There  was  formed  in  London,  in  1818,  an 
association    worthy  of  the    greatest    praise.       It 

*  This  institution  of  charity  is  the  one  in  which  the 
author  seems  most  interested  personally.  We  have  omit- 
ted, however,  in  this  translation  all  account  of  the  particu- 
lar institutions  of  France  for  charity.  The  difference  of 
the  political  institutions,  in  that  country  and  in  this,  would 
not  allow  them  to  be  models  for  us.  Translator, 


BEGGING.  137 

causes  certain  cards  to  be  distributed  to  the  beg- 
gars in  the  streets,  by  which  these  beggars  can 
present  themselves  at  different  houses.  There 
they  are  immediately  furnished  with  nourishment ; 
their  demands  are  registered  ;  a  personal  inquiry 
into  their  true  situation  is  then  prosecuted.  If 
they  are  found  to  be  only  unfortunate,  every  thing 
is  done  to  relieve  them  ;  in  the  contrary  case  they 
are  sent  to  prison  ;  for  the  society  has  its  consta- 
bles, which  it  employs  to  this  effect. 

Half  measures  for  repressing  beggary  have  the 
most  deplorable  effects.  Sometimes  an  effeminate 
and  timid  administration,  after  having  taken  meas- 
ures to  repress  beggary,  confines  itself  to  seizing, 
from  time  to  time,  the  beggars  it  surprises  in  the 
public  road,  and  the  next  day  leaves  in  peace 
those  who  replace  them.  What  results  from  this  ? 
They  only  prevent  competition  in  following  the 
trade; — the  trade  hence  becomes  more  lucra- 
tive, and  consequently  more  attractive.  The  se- 
verity which  is  used  towards  some,  the  indulgence 
granted  to  others,  forms  a  contrast  which  shocks 
the  public,  and  the  whole  administration  is  accused 
of  negligence  and  injustice. 
12* 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY. 

When  we  have  truly  ascertained  the  condition 
of  a  poor  man,  his  disposition,  character,  and  the 
nature  and  extent  of  his  wants  ;  we  must  next 
determine  what  is  the  kind  of  charity  and  assis- 
tance he  needs. 

There  are  certain  fundamental  rules,  which 
cannot  be  too  familiar  to  the  mind  of  a  visitor  of 
the  poor  ;  and  it  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that 
through  a  disregard  of  them,  either  from  negli- 
gence, or  inexperience,  or  want  of  reflection,  or 
a  blind  zeal,  evil  is  done  instead  of  good,  by  those 
very  individuals  who  have  the  most  benevolent 
interest  in  the  poor. 

It  is  best  as  far  as  possible, 

First.  To  give  the  necessary  articles,  instead 
of  their  value  in  money. 

Secondly.  To  give  what  is  immediately  neces- 
sary. 

Thirdly.  To  give  what  is  the  least  susceptible 
of  abuse. 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF   CHARITY.  139 

Fourthly.  Not  to  give  stores  for  the  future, 
but  small  quantities,  in  proportion  to  the  consump- 
tion. 

Fifthly.  To  give  assistance  both  in  quantity 
and  in  quality  inferior  to  what  might  be  procured 
by  labor  ;  so  that  the  poor  may  be  in  a  less  favor- 
able condition,  even  when  assisted,  than  if  they 
had  supplied  their  own  wants.     And 

Sixthly.  To  give  assistance  at  the  right  mo- 
ment ;  and  not  to  prolong  it  beyond  the  duration 
of  the  necessity  which  calls  for  it  ;  but  to  extend, 
restrict,  and  modify  it  with  that  necessity. 

Serious  errors  have  been  committed  in  theoret- 
ical speculations  upon  the  art  of  distributing  char- 
ity, because  the  authors  of  these  speculations  had 
no  opportunities  of  studying  for  themselves  the 
condition  of  the  poor. 

It  has  been  supposed  that  excess  of  population, 
want  of  labor,  or  deficiency  of  provisions  are  the 
general  and  common  causes  of  poverty.  Doubt- 
less, when  circumstances,  in  any  country,  paralyze 
one  or  more  branches  of  industry  which  em- 
ployed many  hands,  there  is  formed  a  class  of 
poor  people,  composed  of  all  those  who  can  no 
longer  be  employed  in  this  kind  of  business,  and 
who  have  not  yet  been  able  to  succeed  in  finding 


140  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

occupation  in  any  other  manner.  Also  when  a 
famine  afflicts  a  country,  the  rise  of  the  prices  of 
food  exposes  the  laborer,  whose  wages  are  not 
increased,  to  the  horrors  of  want.  But  these  are 
transient  crises,  extraordinary  cases,  and  the  pov- 
erty which  results  from  them  is  as  transient  as  its 
cause. 

But  because  famine  and  the  cessation  of  labor 
engender  new  classes  of  poor,  it  must  not  be  con- 
cluded that  such  poverty  as  is  produced  in  the 
ordinary  state  of  our  society,  is  the  consequence 
of  these  two  causes.  This  is  derived,  on  the  con- 
trary, from  a  concentration  of  constant,  habitual, 
and  ordinary  causes,  the  action  of  which  is  inevi- 
table, even  in  communities  where  labor  is  in  the 
greatest  demand,  and  where  subsistence  is  most 
abundant. 

In  those  countries  of  Europe  where  the  means 
of  subsistence  are  most  abundant,  and  where  the 
people  live  cheapest,  in  the  south  of  Italy  for  in- 
stance, there  is  the  greatest  number  of  poor  peo- 
ple. On  the  contrary,  in  those  where,  as  in  Swe- 
den, the  means  of  subsistence  are  most  rare  and 
most  dear,  there  is  the  smallest  number  of  poor. 
It  even  sometimes  happens  that  the  extreme 
abundance  of  provisions  may  increase  the  num- 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY.  141 

ber  of  poor ;  for  the  proprietor  and  farmer,  from 
not  being  able  to  sell  their  harvests,  find  them- 
selves obliged  to  reduce  their  prices  so  much,  as 
to  diminish  the  demand  for  labor. 

It  was  by  committing  this  fundamental  error 
that  Malthus,  in  his  "  Treatise  upon  Population," 
in  many  respects  so  new  and  so  profound,  but 
sometimes  so  paradoxical,  has,  in  his  criticisms 
upon  the  course  pursued  in  modern  societies  for 
the  relief  of  the  poor,  been  carried  away  by  the 
very  rigor  of  his  logical  deductions,  to  consequen- 
ces which,  revolting  to  the  feelings  of  humanity, 
might  have  warned  him,  by  that  fact  alone,  to 
suspect  that  he  had  made  some  capital  mistake, 
in  the  principles  from  which  he  set  out. 

Those  extraordinary  calamities  which  some- 
times fall  on  a  country,  and  instantaneously  de- 
prive a  great  number  of  workmen  of  their  accus- 
tomed means  of  labor,  or  occasion  a  scarcity  of  the 
means  of  subsistence,  or  raise  the  price  of  food, 
thus  exposing  the  poorest  class  to  the  horrors  of 
famine,  demand  extraordinary  remedies,  through 
the  cooperation  of  the  public  administration. 

But  great  care  should  be  taken  in  the  choice 
of  these  remedies,  or  the  evil  may  be  aggravated. 
It  is  only  those  branches  of  industry  which  have 


142  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

for  their  object  some  article  of  fashion  or  luxury 
which  can  be  suddenly  suspended,  unless  it  be 
a  branch  which  has  relation  to  some  article  whose 
exportation  is  interrupted  by  a  war  or  some  other 
circumstance.  It  is  not  easy  for  a  branch  of  labor 
to  be  paralyzed  which  provides  the  necessary 
articles  of  common  consumption.  Now  when 
there  is  a  great  number  of  unoccupied  workmen, 
the  small  price  which  they  obtain  for  their 
labor,  suggests  some  new  kind  of  employment 
which  would  not  otherwise  have  been  thought  of. 
Thus  new  branches  of  industry  are  developed, 
to  take  the  place  of  those  that  are  paralyzed. 

As  to  articles  of  food,  it  is  now  well  known 
that  there  is  hardly  ever  any  real  famine.  Hardly 
do  the  greatest  famines  suppose  a  deficiency  equal 
to  the  quantity  of  food  necessary  to  feed  the  coun- 
try during  ten  days  in  the  year ;  and  it  is  suffi- 
cient that  each  family  should  diminish  its  daily 
consumption  by  one  thirty-sixth  of  the  usual  quan- 
tity, and  the  equilibrium  is  restored.  Now  sure- 
ly, nothing  is  more  easy  than  this,  and  without 
sensibly  diminishing  strength  or  even  enjoyment. 
This  reduction  might  be  effected  merely  by  avoid- 
ing the  loss  which  results  from  waste.  But,  sup- 
posing  that    each   individual   should    every    day 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY.  143 

diminish,  by  one  thirty-sixth,  the  quantity  of  food 
he  ordinarily  consumes  ;  this  reduction  would  not 
be  perceived.  Far  from  its  being  prejudicial  to 
strength  and  health,  it  would  be  useful  to  both, 
even  if  it  were  four  or  five  times  more  considera- 
ble ;  for  it  is  acknowledged  that  we  eat  much 
more  than  is  really  necessary,  and  that  greater 
frugality  would  be  in  all  classes  a  salutary  regi- 
men. Besides,  a  famine  scarcely  ever  affects  but 
one  kind  of  provisions ;  it  is  generally  bread,  and 
the  total  quantity  of  subsistence  is  not  diminish- 
ed in  proportion.  Persons  in  low  circumstances 
reduce  their  consumption  of  rarer  and  dearer 
food,  and  content  themselves  with  a  coarser  kind. 
The  raising  of  the  prices  of  provisions  also  natu- 
rally leads  each  one  to  effect  this  insensible  re- 
duction, and  to  take  more  careful  measures  to 
be  economical.  In  short,  the  production  of  oth- 
er kinds  of  provisions  is  excited  by  the  greater 
demand.  There  certainly  remain  many  more 
kinds  of  food  even  in  great  famines,  than  would 
be  necessary  to  support  all  the  population,  if 
by  a  good  distribution  it  were  possible  to  give  to 
each  one  his  just  portion.  The  privations  which 
actually  overwhelm  the  multitude,  proceed  from 
the  alarms  which  paralyze  circulation,  and  leave 


144  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

the  markets  empty  ;  and  from  that  excess  of  pre- 
caution, which  raises  the  price  of  provisions  un- 
reasonably, and  puts  them  out  of  the  reach  of 
the  less  fortunate  classes.  Thus  is  spread  that 
false  notion,  too  lightly  conceived,  presented,  and 
propagated,  concerning  a  supposed  deficiency  of 
food;  which  has  frequently  threatened  and  tor- 
mented our  modern  societies,  and  which  idea  has 
been  of  itself  one  of  the   chief  causes  of  poverty. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  ordinary  causes  of  pov- 
erty. 

The  first  is  old  age,  and  this  goes  on  increas- 
ing from  day  to  day.  Next  are  incurable  in- 
firmities ;  the  loss  of  one  or  more  limbs,  and 
blindness.  Among  the  incurable  infirmities  may 
sometimes  be  placed  mental  alienation ;  and  al- 
ways, imbecility.  But  a  part  of  these  causes, 
however  extensive  and  inevitable  may  be  the 
action  of  them,  still  permit  some  labor ;  limited 
it  is  true,  and  only  to  be  executed  at  home,  but 
demanding  neither  much  strength,  nor  perfectly 
sound  organs . 

Among  temporary  causes  of  poverty,  sickness 
and  wounds  may  be  placed  in  the  first  rank.  If 
the  poor  person  is  alone,  the  necessities  result- 
ing   from   such   a  situation   are   absolute.      They 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY.  145 

are  greater  when  this  misfortune  befalls  the 
head  of  a  family  ;  they  are  felt  more  if  one  or 
more  of  his  limbs  are  affected. 

Lying-in  women  enter  into  this  first  class. 

There  are  certain  infirmities,  which,  without 
being  precisely  sickness,  injure  the  capacity  for 
labor;  as  delicate  lungs,  feeble  sight,  &c. 

To  the  second  rank  of  temporary  causes  may 
be  added  the  condition  of  childhood  among  or- 
phans. 

Then  comes  widowhood,  especially  when  a 
widow  is  burdened  with  many  small  children. 
The  labor  of  a  woman  is  scarcely  sufficient  for 
her  own  wants. 

A  husband  and  wife,  with  a  certain  number  of 
little  children,  may  become  suddenly  unable  to 
maintain  their  whole  family,  if  their  occupation 
is  not  lucrative. 

In  these  two  last  cases,  labor  provides  for  a 
part  of  the  wants ;  assistance  is  necessary  to  sup- 
ply the  deficiency. 

The  last  cause  of  poverty  is  that  cessation  of 
labor,  which  proceeds  from  the  workman  finding 
no  occupation. 

It  is    evidently  necessary   to   vary   the  kind  of 
assistance  which  such  different  conditions  claim. 
13 


146  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

The  first  of  all  cares  should  consist  in  inducing 
the  poor  to  accomplish  the  portion  of  labor  they 
are  capable  of;  and  to  this  end  it  is  important 
never  to  give  them  assistance  equal  to  that 
which  labor  might  have  procured  for  them.  The 
principal  object  is  to  give  the  poor  facilities  for 
labor,  and  we  cannot  excite  them  to  industry 
too  much.  For  the  preservation  of  their  moral 
dignity,  they  should  be  led  to  employ  their  ac- 
tivity, and  exert  their  energy  to  the  utmost. 
It  is  however  often  necessary  to  give  assistance 
also.  A  poor  old  woman,  who  is  too  infirm  to 
work,  may  sell  at  a  stand  on  a  corner  of  the  street. 
A  place  and  the  permission  of  the  police  must  be 
obtained  for  her,  and  the  necessary  articles  must  be 
furnished  to  begin  with.  The  poor  may  be  hired 
to  work  for  each  other;  the  garments  that 
are  given  to  one  poor  family  may  be  made  in 
another,  and  thus  benefit  both. 

The  degree  of  confidence,  which  the  poor  de- 
serve, by  their  wisdom  and  economy,  ought  to 
influence  much  the  choice  of  assistance  which 
is  bestowed  upon  them,  in  those  cases  where 
a  choice  can  be  made. 

In  general,  bread  is  of  all  things  absolutely 
necessary,  and  what  the   poor  man    procures  to 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY.  147 

himself  first  of  all,  with  the  resources  which,  re- 
main to  him,  and  yet  it  is  that  which  should 
first  of  all  be  procured  for  him.  The  reason  of 
this  is,  that  it  is  that  which  he  can  least  abuse 
which  he  furnishes  for  himself  day  by  day,  in 
proportion  to  his  necessity.  By  the  side  of  bread, 
and  almost  as  necessary,  may  be  placed  the 
economical  soups,  in  cities  where  they  are  made, 
and  at  the  seasons  in  which  they  are  distributed. 
Yet  this  second  kind  of  aliments  meets  in  prac- 
tice with  some  inconveniences,  which  do  not  exist 
in  respect  to  the  first.  The  poor  sometimes  sell 
their  soups  instead  of  using  them.  If  they 
wish  to  carry  the  soup  home  to  share  it  with 
their  families,  it  is  necessary  to  have  it  warm- 
ed over  again.  All  stomachs  do  not  accom- 
modate themselves  to  these  soups,  at  least  as 
they  are  generally  prepared  ;  we  frequently  see 
poor  people  refuse  them.  It  would  be  very  use- 
ful to  distribute  potatoes  and  soup  of  bones, 
though  that  is  hardly  customary.  For  the  poor, 
whatever  their  distress,  cannot  live  upon  bread 
alone,  and  it  will  be  rendering  them  a  double 
service  to  procure  for  them,  at  the  most  econom- 
ical price,  food  which  may  be  joined  to  it.  They 
will   then    employ   the    resources    which   remain 


148  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

to  them  to  procure  other  necessary  articles.  In 
the  mean  time  they  will  at  least  have  lived  ; 
the  mpst  pressing  wants  will  have  been  provid- 
ed for  ;    hunger  cannot  be  adjourned. 

Malthus  has  committed  a  second  fundamental 
error  in  supposing  that  the  bread  and  other  food 
which  is  publicly  or  privately  distributed  to  the 
poor,  by  increasing  the  total  consumption  in  the 
country,  will  raise  the  price  of  provisions,  and 
thus  increase  their  scarcity.  He  did  not  look 
upon  things  as  they  are.  By  giving  food  to 
the  poor,  we  enable  them  to  provide  for  their 
other  wants  themselves ;  and  economy  may  be 
exercised  in  making  nourishing  food  from  many 
things  which  are  often  neglected  and  wasted.  Thus 
soup  may  be  made  of  bones,  &c.  Is  it  necessary 
to  become  barbarous  to  the  poor  in  order  to  pre- 
serve society  from  danger?  Is  it  necessary  that 
the  poor  should  die  of  hunger,  ihat  the  rest  of 
society  may  live  ?  Even  if  the  poor  are  nourished, 
the  markets  will  not  be  stripped,  and  there  will 
still  be  bread  enough  for  every  body. 

The  health  of  the  poor  should  also  be  at- 
tended to.  After  food,  come  linen  and  clothing. 
Poor  people  should  have  given  them  but  two  shirts  ; 
if  they  receive  more,  they  may  sell  or  pawn  them. 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY.  149 

Wooden  shoes  should  also  be  given,  because  they 
are  proof  against  dampness.  It  is  better  to  lend 
the  necessary  furniture,  than  to  give  it  to  the 
poor,  for  you  may  find  in  a  few  weeks,  that  all 
you  have  given  is  pawned  to  provide  for  some 
present  urgent  want.  Coal  and  wood  should 
only  be  given  in  small  quantities,  because  other- 
wise they  will  be  wasted. 

It  sounds  harsh,  and  it  is  difficult  to  say  it,  but 
it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  we  must  show  our- 
selves very  economical  towards  the  poor,  by 
granting  the  most  mean  and  miserable  articles 
to  their  solicitations.  Otherwise  we  do  them 
more  harm  than  good  ;  for  as  soon  as  they  have 
surmounted  the  first  shame  of  begging,  their  en- 
treaties will* know  no  bounds,  especially  if  they 
perceive  that  their  solicitations  make  you  yield. 
We  should  like  to  put  them  in  circumstances 
of  comfort,  but  it  would  not  be  understanding 
their  interests  rightly.  It  is  useful  to  them  to 
feel  privation,  for  it  is  the  spur  which  is  to  excite 
them  to  industry,  and  to  the  employment  of  all 
the  resources  that  remain  to  them.  Besides, 
experience  has  taught  us,  that  people  more  easily 
abuse  what  is  given  to  them,  than  what  they 
procure  by  the  sweat  of  their  brow.  In  short, 
13* 


150  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOR. 

desires  multiply  with  the  facility  of  obtaining 
their  gratification. 

There  are,  however,  exceptions  to  these  aus- 
tere rules.  There  are  some  poor  so  estimable 
that  we  do  not  find  it  necessary  to  arm  ourselves 
against  them  with  these  manifold  precautions, 
because  there  is  no  fear  that  they  will  abuse 
what  they  receive.  There  are  some  so  respecta- 
ble that  we  should  do  well  to  procure  them  ease 
of  circumstances,  if  that  were  possible.  But^  it 
is  not  such  poor  that  torment  us  with  indiscreet 
solicitations.  The  characters  of  the  poor  how- 
ever are  not  always  so  marked.  Between  those 
who  deserve  entire  confidence,  and  those  who  de- 
serve none,  there  is  an  infinity  of  shades.  Thus 
the  choice  of  succour  will  not  be  modified  merely 
by  the  nature  of  the  wants  ;  it  will  also  be  modi- 
fied by  the  disposition  of  the  poor,  and  their  hab- 
its of  life,  according  as  they  are  more  or  less 
regular,  provident,  careful,  economical,  and  wise. 
This  study  of  character  can  only  belong  to  those 
who  are  in  frequent  intercourse  with  the  poor, 
who  can  obtain,  or  take  by  surprise,  the  secret 
of  their  virtues  or  vices. 

The  use  the  poor  make  of  our  bounty  will  be 
the  surest  guide  in   the  choice  of  what  we   shall 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF   CHARITY.  151 

bestow  again.  We  must  observe  whether  the 
kind  of  assistance  we  have  given  them,  is  the 
kind  they  require,  and^  whether  they  make  the 
use  of  it  which  we  intended.  For  this  inspec- 
tion, it  is  necessary,  that  the  same  poor  should 
remain  for  some  length  of  time  under  the  inspec- 
tion of  the  same  visitor.  In  the  course  of  this 
habitual  inspection,  he  will  be  able  to  remark 
if  the  condition  of  the  poor  under  his  care  has 
become  aggravated,  improved,  or  modified  in  any 
way  ;  and  will  avoid  continuing  assistance  when 
it  has  ceased  to  be  indispensable.  And  he  will 
also  be  able  to  bring  opportune  aid  in  cases  of 
emergency,  which  might  otherwise  be  followed  by 
a  long  series  of  evils.  For  instance,  he  may 
prevent  a  family  from  pawning  their  few  goods, 
if  he  knows  all  the  circumstances  and  vicissitudes 
of  their  history. 

But  how  can  these  precautions  be  taken,  and 
these  rules  observed,  if  the  hand  that  gives,  and 
the  eye  that  studies,  are  not  constantly  asso- 
ciated together?  A  gift  should  come  to  the  poor 
accompanied  by  counsels,  exhortations,  sometimes 
by  reprimands ;  and  who  can  address  them  in  such 
language  excepting  one  who  has  obtained  their 
confidence  and  knows  them  well  ? 


152 


VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 


After  the  visitor  of  the  poor  has  studied  the 
situation  of  the  poor,  and  found  out  their  wants,  he 
must  endeavour  to  discoyer  the  most  economical 
means  of  assisting  them.  He  must  teach  them 
economy,  the  spirit  of  order  and  foresight,  and 
how  to  preserve  their  self-respect  and  dignity. 
This  will  be  to  them  a  real  treasure. 

He  must  therefore  have  the  condescension  and 
patience  to  enter  into  the  minutest  details  respect- 
ing their  condition.  Are  they  married,  or  single  ? 
What  is  the  number  of  children,  their  sex,  their 
age  ?  Here  we  find  ourselves  again  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  partisans  of  Malthus,  and  this  time 
we  can  without  doubt  give  ourselves  up  to  lament 
with  them  the  imprudent  and  premature  marriages 
of  the  indigent  class.  We  do  not  believe  how- 
ever, that  establishments  of  charity  promote  them. 
The  fatiguing  life  they  lead,  and  the  few  en- 
joyments which  are  granted  to  them,  make 
them  seek  more  strongly  the  pleasures  of  conjugal 
union.  The  occasion  presents  itself,  and  they 
yield  so  much  the  more  easily  to  a  natural  in- 
clination, as  their  morals  are  more  pure.  They 
flatter  themselves  with  the  illusions  natural  to 
their  age. 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION   OF  CHARITY.  153 

It  is  not  true  that  the  poor  look  forward  to 
charitable  institutions  to  provide  for  their  children. 
On  the  contrary,  they  often  look  forward  to  the 
assistance  their  children  will  afford  them  ;  and 
still  more  frequently  they  think  nothing  about  it. 
Want  of  foresight,  a  too  blind  confidence  in  the 
future,  a  too  great  facility  in  yielding  to  their  in- 
clinations, are  the  true  causes  of  imprudent  mar- 
riages. The  remedy  must  be  found  in  a  good 
education,  which  will  give  the  laborious  classes 
ideas  of  order,  and  habits  of  reflection.  Those 
who  marry  with  some  good  prospects  for  the  fu- 
ture, often  find  them  fail,  by  a  reverse  of  circum- 
stances ;  but  even  those  who  marry  imprudently 
should  not,  for  that  reason,  be  abandoned  by  us. 

If  we  can  obtain  the  direction  of  the  affairs  of 
a  poor  family,  we  should  in  the  first  place  endeav- 
our to  teach  them  the  science  of  economy.  The 
least  attention  to  it  makes  a  wonderful  difference 
in  their  affairs.  We  should,  in  the  first  place, 
show  them  the  great  saving  that  may  be  made  in 
daily  expenses,  by  always  getting  just  enough,  and 
having  no  waste  in  their  daily  food.  This  is  the 
most  difficult  and  yet  the  most  necessary  economy. 
Secondly,  we  should  consider  those  times  of 
emergency,  when  rent  is  to  be  paid,  and    show 


154  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

them  that  nothing  is  gained  by  delay  of  payments, 
and  that  short  terms  are  less  oppressively  felt. 
It  is  rendering  them  an  ill  service  to  accommodate 
them  by  delays  of  payment.  It  brings  an  emer- 
gency, often  fatal,  when  every  thing  is  sacrificed. 
Besides,  assistance  is  more  easily  obtained  in  de- 
tail, than  in  round  sums,  and  it  is  a  kind  of  suc- 
cour less  liable  to  abuse.  Thirdly,  they  should 
be  led  to  see  the  difference  between  summer  and 
winter,  and  during  the  comparative  plenty  of  the 
former,  to  provide  for  the  latter,  when  wants  are 
greater  and  more  pressing,  and  resources  fewer. 
We  must  do  all  this  by  counsels  and  entreaties. 
And  it  is  necessary  to  confess  that  we  cannot  hope 
to  make  the  poor  always  see  their  own  best  inter- 
ests. We  must  pity  these  unfortunate  beings. 
It  is  easier  to  be  severe  on  them,  than  to  put  our- 
selves in  their  situation.  With  so  many  pressing 
wants,  it  is  difficult  for  them  to  choose  wisely  the 
manner  of  spending  the  trifling  sum  which  is  in 
their  hands.  We  must  not  only  urge,  we  must 
employ  indirect  means  to  lend  force  to  our  coun- 
sels;  and  we  must  measure  our  assistance  and 
the  testimonies  of  our  interest,  by  the  docility  we 
meet  with. 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY.  155 

The  poor  should  be  strongly  advised  to  procure, 
if  possible,  healthy  and  airy  places  of  abode, 
especially  those  who  lead  a  sedentary  life.  If 
tenements  could  be  erected  with  this  especial 
reference,  it  would  be  of  the  greates\use  to  the 
poor ;  but  there  are  few  who  are  willing  to  run  the 
risk  of  such  efforts.  The  more  the  poor  are 
spread  about  among  those  in  easy  circumstances 
the  better,  for  they  are  better  taken  care  of;  while 
many  evils  are  prevented  by  their  separation  from 
each  other.  It  would  also  favor  the  adoption  of 
the  poor  by  the  richer  families. 

It  is  better  to  lend  furniture  than  to  give  it  to 
the  poor.  If  we  do  the  latter,  in  moments  of 
emergency  they  may  sell  it.  To  sleep  on  straw, 
is  an  expression  we  use  as  synonymous  with  a 
state  of  extreme  misery.  But  it  is  a  very  agreea- 
ble, and,  what  is  more  important,  a  very  healthy 
bed.  Count  Rumford  proposed  beds  filled  with 
air,  which  had  many  advantages,  but  they  do  not 
seem  to  have  been  adopted. 

A  facility  of  putting  their  goods  in  pawn  is  a 
most  fatal  seduction  for  the  indigent.  Always  ab- 
sorbed by  the  feeling  of  present  want,  confident 
of  the  future,  or  utterly  regardless  of  it,  they  think 
they  obtain  a  resource  in  what   proves  their  ruin. 


156  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

Too  much  warning  can  hardly  be  given  them  on 
this  point.  Assistance  in  delivering  them  from 
this  difficulty  should  be  very  cautiously  given. 
And  we  cannot  show  ourselves  too  severe  towards 
those  who  pawn  those  articles  which  have  been 
furnished  them.  This  habit  is  a  sign  of  great 
want  of  principle  ;  it  shows  us  that  they  solicit 
our  aid  ta  abuse  it. 

We  should  pay  the  most  particular  attention  to 
teaching  the  poor  how  to  keep  what  they  have. 
We  should,  if  possible,  require  of  them  an  ac- 
count of  what  they  have,  reward  their  care,  and 
even  punish  their  negligence.  Neatness  is  one 
means  of  preservation,  and  a  sign  which  announces 
the  spirit  of  order ;  it  is  melancholy  to  see  how 
ignorant  the  poor  are  of  it,  and  what  a  symptom  of 
moral  disease  it  almost  invariably  is.  Where  we 
find  it,  we  should  grant  some  confidence,  for  it  is 
generally  deserved. 

This  consideration  will  guide  us  in  the  choice 
of  articles  to  be  furnished  to  the  poor.  When 
they  have  not  learnt  to  take  care  of  things,  we 
should  give  them  more  ordinary  articles. 

Count  Rumford,  M.  Cadet  de  Vaux,  M.  Bourriat, 
and  many  other  philanthropists  have  written  much 
concerning  the  means  of  clothing  and   nourishing 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY.  157 

the  poor.  But  these  things  have  not  been  put  in 
practice.  It  is  not,  however,  because  their  meth- 
ods are  not  excellent,  but  because  the  poor  them- 
selves are  ignorant  of  them,  and  can  only  be  made 
acquainted  with  them  through  the  visitor  of  the 
poor,  whose  duty  it  is  to  communicate  them,  and 
to  do  away  the  prejudices,  routine,  &c.  which 
make  it  hard  for  the  poor  to  adopt  them.  He 
should  therefore  make  himself  acquainted  with  the 
details  of  all  the  valuable  works  on  these  subjects, 
neither  falling  in  with  the  prejudices  of  the  vulgar, 
nor  with  the  frivolous  disdain  with  which  men  of 
the  world  look  on  these  humble  studies. 

The  advice  of  the  visitor  of  the  poor  in  respect 
to  the  price  and  kind  of  stuffs  which  it  is  best 
to  buy,  and  the  choice  of  fuel,  and  the  means 
of  warming  themselves  at  the  least  possible  ex- 
pense, is  of  great  importance  to  the  poor.  The 
many  valuable  discoveries  of  modern  science  on 
these  subjects,  can  only  be  diffused  among  the 
poorer  classes,  which  are  always  prejudiced, 
through  their  confidence  in  the  friendship  and 
wisdom  of  their  visitor.* 

*  The  author  has  devoted  a  large  part  of  a  chapter  to 
directions  to  the  visitor  of  the  poor  as  to  the  choice  of  arti- 
14 


158  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

Sickness  and  death  bring  into  the  families  of 
the  poor  a  thousand  real  evils  ;  for  they  bring,  in 
their  train,  loss  of  work,  discouragement  of  mind, 
and  almost  all  the  causes  of  poverty.*  No  com- 
munity can  be  so  well  ordered  that  the  members 
of  the  poorer  classes  shall  not  be  exposed  some- 
times to  such  distress,  as  charity  is  called  on  to 
relieve.  It  is  not  necessary  to  enter  into  the 
details  of  these  evils.  They  will  occur  to  every 
one  on  the  least  reflection.  The  visitor  of  the 
poor  will  now  be  called  on  to  give  immediate  aid, 

cles  and  their  prices.  But  as  it  applies  particularly  to  Paris, 
the  Translator  has  omitted  it.  Every  visitor  of  the  poor 
must  make  such  a  manual  for  himself,  adapted  to  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  own  country,  and  city. 

*  The  author  has  devoted  a  whole  chapter  to  the  subject 
of  sickness  and  convalescence  among  the  poor  of  Paris. 
But  these  things  depend  so  much  on  the  place,  that  the 
Translator  has  omitted  it.  It  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  he 
directs  the  visitor  to  every  means  of  ascertaining  the 
causes  of  disease,  and  of  preventing  it,  which  the  art  of 
medicine,  or  the  philanthropy  of  charity  have  devised,  as 
well  as  to  all  the  means  of  relieving  it,  and  of  doing  away 
its  effects  on  the  constitutions  and  the  affairs  of  the  poor. 
But  this,  also,  is  a  subject,  which  every  visitor  of  the  poor 
must  study  in  the  place  of  his  residence,  and  form  direc- 
tions for  himself. 


WISE  DISTRIBUTION  OF  CHARITY.  159 

and,  in  case  of  convalescence,  to  encourage  and 
support  the  weak  spirits,  to  assist  in  procuring, 
and  not  till  the  health  is  sufficiently  restored,  new 
labor ;  in  case  of  death,  to  console  survivors,  and 
to  aid  them  in  those  new  arrangements  which  may- 
be necessary  and  may  require  his  aid. 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHO    SHOULD     BE    CALLED    TO  THE    OFFICE    OF 
VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

To  whom  shall  this  difficult,  delicate,  and  some- 
times painful  ministry,  whose  functions  have  been 
described,  be  confided  ?  —  We  answer,  to  all  those 
who  will  consent  to  accept  the  burden  ;  whatever 
may  be  their  sex,  age,  or  condition,  provided 
they  have  virtue  enough  to  feel  the  value  of  it, 
and  judgment  and  experience  enough  to  be  capa- 
ble of  fulfilling  it  with  wisdom. 

"What,"  some  will  doubtless  say,  "have  we 
not  administrations,  especially  charged  with  the 
distribution  of  public  charity  ?  When  you  re- 
flect upon  it,  is  it  not  a  romance  that  you  present 
to  us,  when  you  call  upon  private  individuals  to 
execute  a  mission  of  this  kind  ?  Where  will  you 
find  persons,  who  are  able  and  willing  to  take 
charge  of  it  ?  Will  you  address  yourselves  to 
the  worldly,  and  those  occupied  with  business  ?  " 
Yes,  we  answer  again,  we  shall  find  a  great  many 
among  those  very  people  of  the  world,  preoccu- 


WHO  SHOULD  BE   CALLED   TO  THIS   OFFICE.   161 

pied  with  what  you  call  business,  whose  hearts 
are  accessible  to  the  sentiments  of  charity.  But 
two  main  propositions  on  this  subject  we  hope  to 
establish. 

1.  Every  person,  who  undertakes  to  assist 
indigence,  must  become  himself  a  visitor  of  the 
poor. 

2.  The  visiting  of  the  poor  by  private  persons 
is  necessary  to  supply  the  deficiencies  of  the  pub- 
lic administration  of  charity. 

The  first  proposition  results  evidently  from  the 
considerations  developed  in  the  preceding  chap- 
ters. There  is  but  one  way,  in  which  we  can 
dispense  with  visiting  the  poor,  whom  we  wish  to 
succour  ;  and  that  way  is,  to  put  the  assistance  we 
destine  to  this  end,  into  the  hands  of  visitors  of 
the  poor.  But  to  give  blindly,  and  without  any 
other  information,  to  the  beggar  at  our  door,  or  on 
the  road,  is  not  to  give  ;  it  is  to  throw  at  hazard,  and 
to  expose  ourselves  to  do  harm,  instead  of  good. 
If  we  are  happy  enough  to  cause  this  intended 
bounty  to  fall  upon  the  truly  unfortunate,  without 
injuring  them,  still  our  good  action  will  remain 
very  imperfect  towards  him  ;  because,  haying  no 
conviction  of  the  wants  of  him  upon  whom  it 
falls,  we  cannot  really  sympathize  with  his  suffer- 
14* 


162  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

ings.  Nor  will  it  benefit  ourselves,  since  we  spare 
ourselves  the  application,  the  fatigue,  the  employ- 
ment of  time,  and  the  triumph  over  our  repugnan- 
ces ;  —  that  is  to  say,  all  that  would  have  been  to 
us  a  greater  sacrifice,  than  that  of  a  few  pieces  of 
money,  which,  perhaps,  imposes  upon  us  no  sen- 
sible privation. 

If  we  throw  these  pieces  of  money  into  a 
charity-box,  or  confide  them  to  hands  more  prac- 
tised, and  more  active,  we  shall  doubtless  obtain 
an  assurance  of  their  being  used  well.  But  how 
many  things  will  be  wanting  in  this  apparent 
charity  !  We  shall  have  avoided  the  presence  of 
the  unfortunate,  and  all  direct  communication 
with  him.  Our  charity  will  also  be  still  more 
indolent  than  it  was  before.  There  is,  besides,  a 
great  deal  of  assistance,  which  We  cannot  thus 
transmit  through  others.  Such  are  certain  things 
we  can  give,  of  which  we  cannot  easily  deprive 
ourselves,  and  which  we  should  reserve,  if  we  did 
not  see  some  unfortunate  person,  to  whom  they 
would  be  a  treasure.  Such,  also,  are  good  coun- 
sels, consolation,  encouragement,  and  useful  sug- 
gestions. A  single  word  may  double  the  price 
of  important  assistance  to  him  who  receives  it. 
In  short,  we  deprive  ourselves  of  a  multitude  of 


WHO   SHOULD  BE  CALLED  TO  THIS   OFFICE.     163 

salutary  instructions,  which  we  might  have  drawn 
from  the  exercise  of  this  investigating  charity  ;  and 
thereby,  we  also  deprive  ourselves  of  the  means 
we  should  have  drawn  from  it,  of  being  more 
useful  to  other  unfortunates. 

Let  those  then,  who  are  not  insensible  to  the 
supplications  of  misfortune,  not  fear  to  make  their 
good  actions  complete.  Their  presence  will  be  a 
testimony  of  their  benevolence,  much  more  ex- 
pressive than  their  alms  ;  besides  that  they  will 
learn  how  far  alms  are  necessary.  Have  you  not 
your  visits  of  civility  and  etiquette?  Well, 
sometimes  grant  one  also  to  the  celestial  sentiment 
of  charity  !    You  will  have  your  reward. 

The  second  proposition  we  have  announced, 
springs  as  it  were  from  the  preceding. 

In  the  practice  of  benevolence,  as  in  all  other 
things,  habit  too  often  engenders  routine,  and  gives 
birth  to  certain  prejudices,  which  may  be  called 
prejudices  of  the  trade,  if  the  expression  is  ad- 
missible on  such  a  subject. 

Those  who  are  known  to  make  official  investi- 
gations, rarely  discover  all  the  circumstances  of 
facts.  People  easily  disguise  from  them  what  they 
have  an  interest  in  concealing.  Besides,  official 
investigators  are  forced,  in  order  to  obtain  informa- 


164  VISITOR  OF   THE  POOR. 

tion,  to  address  themselves  to  strangers,  and  to  third 
persons  who  are  more  or  less  indifferent  and  suspi- 
cious. But  he,  who  visits  on  his  own  account,  is 
on  the  contrary  in  a  favorable  situation  to  find 
out  every  thing  more  easily.  He  knows  to  whom 
he  addresses  himself,  and  he  is  answered.  His 
interposition  is  more  natural ;  his  questions  cause 
less  embarrassment ;  and  a  thousand  little  details 
come  to  him  without  reserve.  The  poor  will  be 
less  anxious  to  deceive  him,  because  they  do  not 
see  in  him  the  agent  of  public  authority.  They 
will  tell  him  the  more,  the  less  he  requires.  In 
short,  if  the  presence  of  a  private  person  does  not 
at  first  inspire  the  same  respect,  as  that  of  a  min- 
ister of  public  charity,  perhaps,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  less  intimidates  that  shrinking  of  misfortune, 
which  desires  to  envelope  itself  in  a  veil  of  secre- 
cy. He  will  have  a  better  chance  of  obtaining  the 
confidence  of  that  class  of  the  unfortunate  who 
avoid  inspection,  and  even  fear  pity,  than  any 
official  investigator.  A  person  will  be  so  much 
the  more  easily  admitted  into  the  interest  of  a 
family,  in  proportion  as  he  is  supposed  better 
prepared  to  comprehend  them. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  public  administrator 
has  a  crowd  of  poor  on  his  hands  at  once,  and 


WHO  SHOULD  BE  CALLED  TO  THIS  OFFICE.   165 

that  his  solicitude  is  necessarily  divided.  Now 
people  shrink  from  being  assisted  systematically. 
They  prefer  a  private,  individual  assistance. 
They  seek  a  personal  protection.  They  feel 
more  attraction,  and  more  confidence  towards  him, 
who,  not  being  surrounded  by  numerous  depen- 
dents, concentrates  his  cares  upon  the  family  he 
comes  to  console.  It  is  no  longer  mere  charity  ; 
it  is  true  friendship.  Such  are  the  impressions  of 
the  poor.  They  think  the  protection  nearer  to 
them,  when  they  are  its  direct  and  personal  ob- 
ject. 

Shall  I  say  it  ?  There  is  still  another  obsta- 
cle, which  prevents  estimable  men  in  official 
stations,  from  succeeding  in  discovering  all  that 
is  required.  I  shall  be  understood  by  those, 
who  understand  the  human  heart,  its  suscepti- 
bilities, and  its  weaknesses.  Misfortune,  when 
real  and  deep,  is  very  susceptible.  There  is 
something  indescribable  in  the  presence  of  him, 
whom  official  duty  brings  to  our  aid.  We  see 
in  him  a  legal  writ,  a  formula,  a  rule  of  conduct. 
We  open  our  heart  more  freely  to  one  whom  we 
suppose  drawn  towards  us  by  a  peculiar  and 
spontaneous  impulse.  We  present  ourselves  be- 
fore the  first,  as  before  a  sort  of  magistrate  ;  we 


166  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR, 

make  arrangements  to  receive  him  ;  we  prepare 
to  answer  him.  It  is  not  the  same  with  regard 
to  the  other.  We  allow  ourselves  to  be  taken 
by  surprise.  We  are  what  we  seem  to  be.  Sup- 
pose in  this  last  case,  if  you  will,  less  perfection 
of  virtue.  For  that  very  reason,  fearing  his  pres- 
ence less,  we  shall  approach  him  more  easily, 
and  confess  with  less  difficulty  those  very  weak- 
nesses, which  are  a  part  of  our  misfortune  as 
well  as  one  of  its  causes.  And  this  is  precisely 
what  it  was  necessary  to  know. 

There  is  a  counsel,  upon  which  we  cannot  in- 
sist too  much  to  those  persons,  who  are  accus- 
tomed to  assist  the  poor.  It  is,  to  concentrate 
their  gifts  upon  a  small  number,  and  especially 
to  continue  them  to  those  whom  they  have  begun 
to  assist.  They  will  thus  succeed  in  bringing 
out  fully  the  good  of  which  they  have  planted 
the  first  germ.  Enlightened  by  their  experience, 
they  will  easily  correct  any  errors  into  which 
they  may  have  fallen  ;  and  will  learn  to  suit 
their  bounty  to  the  exigencies  of  sufferers. 
Aware  of  their  relation  to  the  poor,  their  inter- 
course will  be  no  longer  mere  visiting.  It  will 
be  a  sort  of  guardianship.  It  will  even  be  friend- 
ship, 


WHO   SHOULD  BE  CALLED  TO  THIS  OFFICE.   167 

This  guardian  and  friend  has  a  thousand  means 
of  habitual  information.  The  poor  man  finds 
access  to  him  at  any  time.  Entering  without 
uneasiness,  he  comes  to  relate  what  he  has  been 
doing,  and  to  ask  counsel  about  what  he  is  going 
to  do.  Sometimes,  when  necessity  is  press- 
ing, and  there  is  not  a  moment  to  be  lost,  he 
has  recourse  to  him,  whose  goodness  he  has  al- 
ready experienced.  At  other  times,  when  new 
hopes  arise,  he  goes  to  confide  them  to  him,  who 
enters  into  his  interests. 

This  guardian  and  friend,  precisely  because 
he  is  in  the  world,  and  in  the  midst  of  its  affairs, 
has  a  thousand  indirect  means  of  doing  good  to 
the  poor,  by  the  indirect  relations  which  this 
kind  of  life  procures  him.  He  knows  a  manufac- 
turer, who  will  employ  the  workman  who  has  no 
business.  He  can  procure  some  occupation  for 
the  wife,  &c,  can  obtain  a  delay  from  the  credi- 
tor, or  from  the  landlord.  Having  only  this 
family  to  protect,  he  can  employ  himself  entirely 
in  its  behalf,  and  thus  will  be  formed  the  most 
touching  alliances  between  goodness  and  misfor- 
tune. 

This  is  not  all.     The  person,  who  gives  chari- 
ty,  without  seeing  or  being  seen   by  the  unfor- 


168  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

tunate  one  who  receives  it,  loses  the  opportunity 
of  being   excited   to   give  again,  which  would  be 
the    consequence    of   having    immediate    commu- 
nication with  him.     In   the  crisis  of  a  fit  of  sick- 
ness,  or  in  pressing  need,  he  will  not  only   him- 
self furnish    what    urgent  necessity    claims ;    but 
his  friends    and  relations  to  whom   he  will   natu- 
rally   relate    the    afflicting    circumstances  of  the 
honest  and  unfortunate  family,  will   also  be  affect- 
ed,   and    will    wish    to    associate    themselves    in 
giving  assistance,  and  thus  the  number  of  bene- 
factors will  increase.     The  children  of  the  house, 
hearing  and  repeating    this    story,    will    also  like 
to    be    of  the    party ;  will  reserve  some  of  their 
pocket    money ;  will    watch    for   the  moment,    in 
which  they   shall  go  to  see  the  poor  family,   and 
joyfully    offer  their  little  tribute.      A    multitude 
of    useless    things    which    have    been    neglected 
in    the    family    as    rubbish,    which    were    wasted 
without    reflection,    will    acquire    an    unexpected 
value  ;    for  with  some   care  and    repairing,   they 
may  still   be  of  great  use  in  a  poor  family.     The 
refuse    articles  of  the  rich  are    often    the  luxury 
of  the    poor.      With    refuse    garments    they    will 
make  a   decent  one ;  the   old    linen   will   become 
useful  to  the  sick  and  wounded.     Thus  will  be 


WHO  SHOULD  BE   CALLED  TO  THIS   OFFICE.    169 

prevented  the  waste  of  so  many  articles,  thrown 
by,  by  those  in  easy  circumstances  ;  and  thus 
a  thousand  streams  will  be  opened,  to  bring  their 
waters  into  the  channel  of  beneficence  ;  thus 
a  new  treasure  will  be  created,  without  a  priva- 
tion to  any  one.  But  in  order  to  obtain  this 
creation,  direct  personal  interest,  and  consequent- 
ly immediate  contact,  is  necessary.  A  private 
individual  will  not  send  a  portion  of  soup  to  the 
charity-office,  but  he  will  willingly  carry  it  to 
that  poor  woman,  who  has  just  been  confined 
in  the  neighbouring  house.  Doubtless  there  is 
an  enlightened  charity,  which,  rising  to  general 
views,  is  moved  at  the  mere  thought  of  the  suf- 
ferings of  humanity.  I  admire,  I  honor  it,  even 
when  it  contents  itself  with  concurring  in  the 
relief  of  these  sufferings  by  a  pecuniary  contri- 
bution in  the  form  of  a  subscription,  renewed 
periodically.  But  I  count  more  upon  the  effect 
produced  by  the  sight  of  misfortune,  to  melt  the 
heart  of  most  men,  and  to  teach  them  the  beau- 
tiful science  of  charity. 

This    consideration    alone    would    be    sufficient 

to  justify  the  views,  which  we  here  present.     We 

would  almost   venture  to   assert,  that  the  increase 

of  succour,  naturally  obtained  by  individual   pa- 

15 


170  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

tronage,  would  be  so  great,  that  without  effort 
these  succours  would  become  proportionate  to 
the  wants,  and  that  there  would  be  no  deficiency. 
Is  it  not  a  great  good,  too,  for  the  unfortunate  to 
feel  themselves  the  object  of  affection  and  benevo- 
lence, which  is  personal  ?  to  know  the  features 
of  their  benefactor  ?  to  be  able  to  repeat  his 
name;  to  be  able  to  love  and  bless  him,  and  to  re- 
commend him  to  Heaven  ?  The  emotion  of  grati- 
tude consoles  a  sufferer  ;  it  ameliorates,  purifies, 
and  leads  him  to  virtue.  He  will  more  wisely 
use  the  bounty  to  which  this  sentiment  has  added 
a  new  value.  Now  these  consolations,  and  this 
amelioration,  are  among  the  blessings,  which  mis- 
ery expects  from  us  ;  and  not  the  least  essential 
in  view  even  of  their  physical  welfare.  Health 
returns  with  serenity  of  mind  ;  suffering  is  borne 
with  more  patience,  labor  is  pursued  with  more 
ardor. 

You  have  dropped  your  money  into  a  charity- 
box,  because  you  wish  to  remain  unknown.  Your 
action  is  generous,  nor  do  I  wish  to  diminish  the 
merit  of  it.  The  veil  with  which  you  wish  to 
envelope  yourself,  enhances  this  merit  in  my  eyes. 
But  I  transport  myself  to  the  side  of  the  poor  man 
to  whom  your  gift  has  arrived  by  a  third  person  ! 


WHO  SHOULD  BE  CALLED  TO  THIS   OFFICE.    171 

Unenlightened,  and  little  practised  in  going  back 
to  causes,  the  image  of  Divine  Providence  pre- 
sents itself  to  him  in  the  assistance  he  receives, 
in  a  form  too  fugitive  and  imperceptible.  He 
receives  coldly  perhaps  this  gift  from  the  stranger. 
Attempt  to  make  one  sacrifice  more  for  him,  that 
of  your  modest  diffidence.  Do  not  fear  to  show 
yourself  to  him.  Let  him  express  his  gratitude  to 
you  ;  and  he  will  be  the  better  for  it,  and  will  find 
his  affections  again,  which  he  had  perhaps  lost. 
And  amidst  his  ruin,  was  not  this  his  greatest  loss  ? 
What  a  noble  and  beautiful  institution  it  would 
be,  if  every  rich  family  could  live  near,  and  be  in 
the  confidence  of,  and  exercise  protection  over, 
some  poor  family  ! 

But,  it  will  be  objected,  that  what  I  demand  of 
a  visitor  of  the  poor,  requires  much  time.  Who 
will  have  the  leisure  to  take  upon  him  so  many 
cares,  and  to  continue  them  afterwards  ?  Much 
time  !  Have  we  calculated  the  time  which  we 
dissipate  in  a  thousand  idle  things,  or  even  that 
which  is  consumed  in  listlessness  ?  But  no  :  these 
calls  may  be  very  short,  for  they  have  no  fixed 
and  necessary  hour.  They  are  made  as  opportu- 
nities occur  ;  moments,  otherwise  lost,  are  devoted 
to  them.      And,  besides,  the  more  we  succeed  in 


172  VISITOR  OF  THE   POOH. 

multiplying  those  who  will  accept  of  this  minis- 
try, the  less  time  it  will  require  of  each  one. 
"  There  is  no  one,"  you  say,  "  who  refuses  to  an- 
swer a  request,  or  who  does  not  sometimes  give,  in 
passing,  to  the  beggar  whom  he  meets  on  the  way. 
But,  if  we  must  mount  into  a  garret  to  inquire  into 
a  thousand  details,  it  is  quite  another  thing.  The 
fountain  of  kind  feeling,  which  suffices  for  the  first 
kind,  does  not  ever  inspire  such  solicitous  charity." 
Now,  it  is  precisely  this  effeminate  beneficence, 
which,  because  it  gives  alms,  thinks  to  accomplish 
the  divine  law  of  charity,  that  we  would  bring 
under  the  spirit  of  this  law.  This  is  the  germ  of 
goodness,  which  we  would  wish  to  make  blossom. 
They,  indeed,  assist  the  poor,  who  in  any  way 
contribute  to  their  necessities  ;  or  at  least,  they 
intend  to  do  so.  We  would  wish  to  lead  them 
to  love  the  poor.  If  they  make  a  first  visit,  the 
second  will  be  more  easy,  and  will  meet  with 
less  repugnance.  By  degrees  they  will  become 
accustomed  and  attached  to  the  service  ;  at  the 
same  time  they  will  also  become  enlightened,  and 
will  have  obtained  the  education  for  it  which  was 
wanting  to  them. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ADVANTAGES    TO    BE    REAPED    BY  THE  VISITOR  OF 
THE  POOR. 

Little  confidence  is  to  be  placed  in  that  sen- 
sibility to  misfortune  which  feeds  on  theatrical 
representations  and  fictitious  reading.  There  is 
a  great  gulf  between  the  reveries  of  the  imagina- 
tion and  the  charity  of  the  heart.  One  may  weep 
in  reading,  in  a  romance,  of  the  misfortunes  of  a 
family,  and  of  the  generosity  of  its  deliverer,  and 
pass  afterwards  with  a  dry  eye  before  the  door  of 
a  miserable  hovel,  or  contemplate,  with  more 
repugnance  perhaps  than  tenderness,  a  spectacle 
which  has  nothing  in  it  of  the  picturesque. 

But  what  book  is  worth  such  a  spectacle? 
From  what  school  can  be  derived  such  instruc- 
tion ?  —  This  is  a  great  subject.  Let  a  few  facts 
speak. 

My  friend  A is  an  honest  man,  who  annoys 

and  injures  no  one,  and,  having  a  great  talent  for 
business,  has  given  himself  up  to  it  all  his  life. 
Living  like  all  the  world,  he  was  accustomed  to 
15* 


174  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

breakfast,  dine,  sleep,  read  his  newspaper,  and 
cultivate  the  relations  of  society.  He  did  not 
himself  suspect  the  ordinary  nature  of  his  exis- 
tence, the  frozen  temperature  of  the  atmosphere 
he  breathed.  He  fulfilled  his  external  duties, 
went  punctually  to  church  every  Sunday,  for  that 
is  only  reputable  ;  but  he  did  not  comprehend  the 
secrets  of  moral  life,  the  high  destinies  of  our 
nature,  the  sublimer  vocation  of  man.  The 
maxims  of  sages  upon  this  matter  seemed  to  him 
an  idle  speculation  ;  he  smiled  at  the  illusion  of 
those  who  raise  themselves  to  these  ideas  ;  as  to 
himself  he  had  no  time  to  lose  in  philosophizing. 
But  one  day  I  proposed  to  him  to  accompany  me 
in  a  visit  I  was  going  to  make.  He  could  not  go  ; 
he  had  an  appointment  ;  the  order  of  his  day 
could  not  be  deranged :  besides,  could  not  I  do 
better  than  he  ?  He  begged  me  to  take  charge  of 
what  he  had  to  bestow.  I  persuaded  him,  how- 
ever, and,  though  a  little  out  of  humor,  he  went 
with  me.  We  entered  into  conversation  with 
this  family,  which  had  also  its  own  business,  which 
he  made  them  explain  to  him.  I  left  him,  with- 
out his  perceiving  it,  in  the  midst  of  the  afflicted 
circle.  He  gave  useful  counsel,  and  took  the 
charge  of  some  necessary  step  to  their  affairs  ;  he 


ADVANTAGES  TO  THE  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR.    175 

obtained  their  confidence,  and  had  the  happiness 
to  render  a  service. 

A  few  days  after,  I  met  him  and  made  my  apol- 
ogies for  having  taken  him  away  from  his  business. 
But  he  was  no  longer  the  same  man,  the  expres- 
sion of  his  countenance  was  changed.  He  was 
more  affectionate  than  I  had  been  accustomed  to 
see  him.  His  conversation  took  another  direction, 
and  he  asked  me  various  questions  about  the  ob- 
jects of  our  solicitude.  He  had  discovered  some- 
thing new  in  life ;  he  had  begun  to  conceive 
that  man  is  not  created  and  put  into  the  world 
merely  to  make  an  establishment  and  live  at  his 
ease  in  peace  with  his  neighbours.  There  was  a 
book  on  his  table.  He  had  discovered  that  there 
is  another,  superior  region,  whose  influences 
ennoble  and  animate  the  monotonous  existence 
of  earthly  interests. 

I  knew  Mrs.  to  be  an  amiable  and  gentle 

woman  ;  her  house  was  ever  attractive,  and  her 
purse  open  to  the  poor.  But  serious  conversa- 
tion wearied  her.  Effort  was  painful  to  her.  She 
wished  that  every  thing  should  go  on  of  itself;  her 
children  were  at  a  boarding-school.  Dress  and 
company  cheated  time  of  its  languor.  The  excite- 
ment of  pulpit  eloquence,  when  there  was  any,  in- 


176  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

terested  her  ;  but  she  relished  serious  reading  little. 
I  solicited  this  lady  to  accompany  me  in  one  of  my 
visits.  Nothing  seemed  more  impossible  ;  dust  and 
filth  inspired  her  with  insuperable  disgust ;  rude 
manners  were  her  antipathy.  I  did  however  obtain 
what  seemed  so  impossible.  The  next  morning 
I  found  her  by  the  bed  of  the  invalid  she  had 
visited  with  me.  She  had  returned  of  her  own 
accord  and  without  me.  But  this  was  not  all. 
The  employment  of  her  time  was  soon  changed ; 
her  husband  found  her  more  attentive  and  affec- 
tionate ;  the  education  of  her  children  awakened 
in  her  more  interest; — her  friends  soon  discov- 
ered a  new  expression  of  sensibility  in  her  con- 
versation ;  and  what  a  guardian  had  this  poor 
family  found  !  I  had  visited  it  more  than  once, 
had  inquired  of  the  neighbours  and  landlord ;  but 
she  found  out  immediately  all  I  was  trying  to 
learn,  and  provided  what  I  intended  to  procure  ; 
I  was  only  obliged  to  warn  her  to  be  econom- 
ical in  her  bounty. 

One  young  friend  of  mine  was  frivolous  and  fond 
of  pleasure,  and  less  afraid  of  dissipation  than  of 
ennui  :  he  had  natural  talents,  but  was  too  indo- 
lent to  study.  He  had  good  qualities,  and  was  a 
devoted  friend,  but  wasted  all  his  time. 


ADVANTAGES    TO  THE  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR.    177 

Another  of  the  same  age  was  dissipated  and 
prodigal,  ostentatious  and  vain,  and  wasted  his 
property. 

Can  visitors  of  the  poor  be  made  out  of  such 
subjects  ?  I  tried  ;  the  former  followed  me  without 
reflecting,  but  soon  his  good  heart  enlightened  his 
reason,  and  he  came  to  himself;  the  latter  would 
not  hesitate  to  do  a  proper  and  worthy  thing,  but 
his  vanity  soon  became  a  proper  sense  of  character. 

How  did  these  changes  come  about  ?  In  the  first 
instance^  surprise  and  almost  horror  was  awakened 
in  a  man  ignorant  of  the  great  trials  that  Provi- 
dence sends  on  man.  He  discovered  anew  aspect 
of  human  life,  which  if  he  had  vaguely  suspected,  he 
was  unwilling  to  define  to  himself.  But  the  voice  of 
God's  creatures  was  heard  ;  the  tears  of  a  widow, 
the  languid  eye  of  an  old  man  met  the  eyes  of  the 
man  of  the  world,  and  melted  his  heart.  Ques- 
tions were  asked,  and  heart-rending  details  were 
obtained.  Faculties  and  powers,  till  then  slumber- 
ing, were  waked  up  in  the  soul  of  the  man  of  the 
world  ;  his  mind  became  concentrated,  and  he  re- 
turned pensive  to  involuntary  meditation.  He 
looked  within,  and  for  the  first  time  his  thoughts 
passed  beyond  the  narrow  bounds  of  present  and 
material  things. 


178  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

Soon  the  relief  he  witnessed  gave  him  the  idea 
of  a  new  order  of  pleasures,  and  the  confidence  he 
inspired  acted  on  him  as  a  sacred  engagement. 
His  soul  opened  to  a  new  order  of  affections,  and 
he  commenced  the  moral  life, —  the  only  real  life. 
The  poor  man's  house  was  his  school,  and  benev- 
olence introduced  him  to  the  other  virtues. 

Another  visitor  of  the  poor  I  had  the  influence  to 
make  of  a  lady,  who  had  much  mind,  and  was  thought 
to  have  extreme  sensibility.  She  swooned  at  the  re- 
cital of  an  accident ;  she  could  not  bear  see  to  a  tiler 
on  a  house  ;  her  table  was  covered  with  romances ; 
no  one  was  more  eloquent  in  expatiating  on  the  in- 
terests of  humanity  ;  she  was  admired  of  both  sex- 
es. But  she  was  not  liberal;  she  was  not  even 
careful  to  pay  her  debts  ;  her  house  was  in  disor- 
der ;  no  one  commended  her  temper.  She  neither 
knew  how  to  diffuse  happiness  nor  to  be  happy. 
She  went  with  me,  because  it  seemed  to  her  a  ro- 
mantic adventure,  and  was  something  new.  She 
became  simple  and  natural ;  her  native  generosity 
was  revived  and  exercised,  and  happiness  awoke 
within  and  around  her. 

Such  are  the  natural  effects  of  the  principle  of 
holy  humanity,  when  not  interfered  with  by  vicious 
habits,  and  neither  luxury  nor  pride  separates  us 


ADVANTAGES  TO  THE  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR.     179 

from  our  suffering  brethren.  In  the  natural  world, 
the  humble  fountain  is  fed  by  the  overflow  of  the 
large  lake  ;  the  little  bird  is  sheltered  in  the  foliage 
of  the  oak;  — and  should  not,  in  the  moral  world, 
prosperity  be  the  shelter  of  weakness  and  misery  ? 
Prosperity?  —  the  word  may  well  make  us  trem- 
ble —  oh,  should  not  the  unstable  prosperity  of  this 
world  shelter  itself  under  the  benedictions  of  the 
relieved  poor  ? 

The  holy  principle  of  humanity  often  leads  us 
to  discover  our  own  wants,  of  which  we  were  igno- 
rant. There  is  a  poverty  more  fatal  than  that  of 
external  privations,  a  poverty  of  soul,  of  which  the 
remedy  is  in  the  holy  emotions  of  sympathy.  In 
doing  good,  man  recovers  all  his  faculties.  But  I 
must  stop.  I  should  have  too  much  to  say,  if  I 
said  all  that  offers  itself  to  my  thoughts,  all  that 
fills  my  heart.  Yet  let  us  penetrate  one  step  fur- 
ther into  the  moral  maladies  of  humanity. 

There  are  men  of  fine  moral  tone,  and  great 
sensibility,  who  become  disgusted  with  the  world, 
through  the  disappointment  of  their  noblest  desires. 
They  have  seen  the  dark  side  of  human  nature, 
and  have  withdrawn  themselves  from  intercourse 
with  a  practical  indifference  to  their  fellow-crea- 
tures.    They  renounce  their   youthful,  ingenuous 


180  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

hopes  of  doing  good,  in  a  sort  of  misanthropical  des- 
pair. I  have  induced  such  men  to  a^ompany  me 
in  my  visits  to  the  poor  ;  to  become  the  counsel- 
lors and  guardians  of  poor  widows,  who  needed  to 
have  their  inexperience  and  ignorance  assisted, 
and  to  be  supported  in  bringing  up  their  families. 
I  have  found  this  to  be  a  specific  for  this  interesting 
misanthropy.  The  relieved  and  benefited  could 
understand  the  characters  of  which  the  world  was 
not  worthy. 

Another  instance  occurs  to  me  ;  —  it  is  that  of  a 
young  man,  who,  though  he  loved  virtue,  commit- 
ted one  great  fault  which  embittered  all  his  reflec- 
tions, and  from  the  importunity  of  which  he  en- 
deavoured to  escape  by  doubting  every  thing. 
Just  as  the  abyss  was  opening  at  his  feet,  he  had 
it  in  his  power  to  give  some  momentary  assistance 
to  an  old  man,  who  needed  the  aid  of  his  arm, 
and  who  conducted  him  to  his  humble  abode. 
The  miserable  being  had  only  straw  to  lie  on,  and 
nothing  there  to  eat.  The  young  man  was  touch- 
ed with  compassion,  and  betrayed  it.  The  signs 
of  it  reanimated  the  old  man,  and  his  expres- 
sions of  confidence  operated  as  a  sort  of  engage- 
ment on  his  accidental  visitor.  A  new  interest 
was  awakened,  and  the  exercise  of  beneficence  re- 
stored him  to  his  own  esteem. 


ADVANTAGES  TO  THE  VISITOR  Otf  THE  POOR.    181 

One  day  I  was  myself  sinking  in  spirits  under 
the  inflictions  of  injustice  and  malice,  and  went 
out,  even  in  ill  humor,  to  breathe  the  air, 
when  a  little  child  met  and  recognised  me.  She 
immediately  accosted  me  with  "  Oh,  please  to 
come  and  see  my  poor  mother,  she  is  ill."  I 
allowed  myself  to  be  conducted  by  her.  Oh 
how  puerile  seemed  the  little  crosses  of  life  by 
which  I  was  affected  !  What  were  they  in  the 
presence  of  real  suffering  ? 

At  another  time  my  health  had  been  affected  ; 
in  a  constant  state  of  languor  1  was  sad  and  un- 
easy ;  acute  pain  came  at  intervals,  and  I  was 
condemned  to  numerous  privations.  Oh,  how 
difficult  is  the  exercise  of  patience  !  how  many 
times  I  was  ready  to  murmur!  When  will  this 
trial  end  ?  Shall  I  have  the  courage  to  bear  It  to 
the  end  ?  In  the  midst  of  this,  I  was  required  to 
give  an  opinion  upon  the  choice  to  be  made  be- 
tween several  poor  people,  who  desired  a  vacant 
place  in  a  hospital.  I  was  obliged  to  ascertain 
the  truth  of  their  situation,  and  to  find  out  and 
compare  their  claims.  I  soon  wondered  that  I 
had  dared  to  complain,  the  object  as  I  was  of 
so  much  care.  The  picture  of  suffering  offered 
to  me,  brought  me  to  feel  how  small  were  my 
16 


182  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

miseries  in  comparison  with  those  which  made 
an  asylum  in  a  hospital  sought  with  so  much 
ardor. 

Again  a  reverse  of  fortune  came  across  me  ; 
my  situation  was  changed  ;  it  was  necessary  to 
alter  the  whole  arrangement  of  my  life.  I  was 
asking  myself  whether  I  could  have  the  courage 
to  resign  myself  to  so  many  sacrifices.  But  when 
I  entered  the  house  of  an  infirm  father  of  a  family, 
the  labor  of  whose  hands  could  no  longer  support 
his  wife  and  children,  whom  hunger  and  cold 
were  besieging;  I  learned  to  support  my  own 
privations ;  I  discovered  that  I  was  still  enjoying 
an  abundance.  Could  I  not  still  share  with  them 
something  of  that  which  remained  to  me  ?  Ah, 
yes  !     I  was  still  rich  ! 

This  time  the  unfortunate  man  I  visit,  is,  in- 
deed, less  to  be  pitied  than  myself.  Whatever 
may  be  the  adversity  which  weighs  upon  him, 
he  is  at  least  surrounded  by  the  objects  of  his 
affections ;  his  faithful  wife  is  at  his  side ;  his 
children  smile  upon  him  ;  a  true  friend  remains 
to  him.  Alas  !  Heaven  has  subjected  me  to 
trials  which  are  unknown  to  him  !  my  soul 
has  been  torn  by  grief;  mourning  is  my  lot ;  the 
tomb  alone  will    unite    me  to    those   for    whom 


ADVANTAGES  TO  THE  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR.    183 

I  lived.  But  in  visiting  him,  who  has  lost  only- 
material  wealth,  I  discover  that  I  can  console 
the  misfortunes  of  others ;  what  a  light !  I  seem 
to  receive  a  message  sent  to  me  from  Heaven 
by  those  I  weep  for  here  below.  They  teach  me 
that  I  can  honor  them,  and  preserve  with  them 
a  sacred  intercourse  by  doing  good.  I  shall  have 
the  courage  to  live  and  accomplish  my  task  upon 
earth. 


CHAPTER  XIL 


SPIRIT  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


On  entering  a  subject  so  full  of  interest,  as  that 
of  the  spirit  of  association  applied  to  the  work  of 
charity,  one  reflection  already  strikes  me  ;  -  Who 
can  be  better  situated  than  the  visitor  of  the  poor, 
to  conceive  the  idea  of  this  kind  of  association, 
and  to  point  out  its  true  ends  ?  Who  will  bring 
to  it  better  dispositions  or  more  favorable  senti- 
ments ?  Who  will  be  better  fitted  to  cooperate 
successfully  with  it  ?  Where  will  these  noble 
creations  be  likely  to  spring  up  or  be  applied,  if 
not  among  those  who  have  seen  for  themselves  the 
evils  which  afflict  men  ;  who  have  studied  their 
causes  and  remedies  ? 

The  spirit  of  association,  that  powerful  princi- 
ple, so  fruitful  in  all  the  great  creations  of  indus- 
try, which  is  the  principle  of  life  in  human  nature, 
acquires  a  new  power  and  fruitfulness,  when  it 
bears  upon  the  good  of  mankind.  Here  it  no 
longer  confines  itself  to  making  known  men's 
views,  experiences,  and  efforts,  to  diffusing    and 


SPIRIT  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


185 


propagating  knowledge  by  free  discussion;  but 
it  communicates  a  new  energy  to  the  sentiment 
which  has  produced  the  creation,  and  which  must 
give  it  life  ;  seeming  to  lend  new  faculties  to  the 
members  of  the  assembly  ;  for  it  is  the  nature 
of  all  moral  sentiments  to  tend  to  communicate 
themselves,  and  to  receive  by  intercourse  with 
others,  through  the  principle  of  sympathy,  their 
most  remarkable  developement.  If,  in  public  as- 
semblies, the  emotion  produced  by  a  noble  action 
is  transmitted  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning  ;  if 
it  acquires  in  the  soul  of  each  one,  by  the  unan- 
imity of  those  who  share  in  it,  a  power  which  it 
never  could  have  obtained  as  a  solitary  impres- 
sion ;  what  must  be  the  effect  of  an  habitual  in- 
tercourse upon  not  merely  the  theory,  but  the 
practice  of  charity  ?  I  enter  one  of  these  assem- 
blies ;  I  see  men  absorbed,  not  in  the  frivolous 
object  of  shining  and  appearing  well,  but  in  the 
most  serious  thoughts,  in  the  desire  of  being  use- 
ful to  their  fellow  mortals.  I  see  modest  and  per- 
haps obscure  men,  but  full  of  devotedness,  whose 
simple  and  sincere  language  breathes  benevolence. 
They  are  happy  to  meet  in  the  same  views  with- 
out disputing  the  merit  of  originality.  What  one 
presents,  another  developes.  Some  show  the 
16* 


186  VISITOR  OF   THE   POOR. 

end,  others  point  out  the  means.  Some  show 
difficulties,  others  teach  how  they  may  be  over- 
come. No  one  aspires  to  honors  and  influence  ; 
but  if  there  are  painful  commissions  to  be  per- 
formed, sacrifices  to  be  made,  many  are  ready  to 
accept  them.  Confidence  unites  all  the  members 
together ;  they  enjoy  reciprocal  esteem ;  they 
enjoy  the  good  done  in  common,  and  holy  friend- 
ships are  formed  among  them.  I  return,  better 
and  happier  for  having  been  admitted  to  this  in- 
tercourse ;  my  ideas  are  enlarged  ;  an  honorable 
emulation  is  kindled  in  my  heart.  To  see  a 
good  action  done,  is  somtimes  sufficient  to  show 
us  that  we  are  capable  of  it  ourselves.  The  noble 
words  of  Correggio,  "  And  I  also  am  a  painter,7* 
revealed  the  painter  of  the  graces.  But  the  spirit 
of  Christianity  is  not  a  peculiar  gift ;  it  is  the 
patrimony  bequeathed  to  all,  though  so  often  un- 
recognised. However  sweet  may  be  the  charm 
we  feel  in  doing  a  good  action,  there  is  one  more 
delicate  and  more  inspiring  still,  — it  is  to  do  it  in 
company  with  others.  If  I  were  a  painter,  I 
would  represent  two  good  men,  confiding  to  each 
other  the  design  of  a  generous  action,  associating 
together  to  put  it  in  execution.  I  would  make 
joy  sparkle  in  their  answering  looks,  and   would 


SPIRIT  OF  ASSOCIATION.  187 

endeavour  to  announce,  by  the  joining  of  their 
hands,  what  power  there  is  in  the  union  of  two 
wills !  This  is  what  association  produces  in  a 
more  or  less  numerous  assembly,  and  renews 
every  day.  Honor  is  due  to  those  generous  asso- 
ciations, which  the  love  of  doing  good  has  in- 
spired, and  which  come  to  the  aid  of  mankind  in 
a  thousand  forms.  There  cannot  be  a  more  no- 
ble alliance  than  that,  of  which  virtue  is  the  prin- 
ciple, and  good  actions  the  fruit. 

Why  are  not  such  useful  associations  multiplied 
in  all  countries  ?  Why  are  they  almost  unknown 
in  many  ?  Their  formation  and  developement 
suppose  two  conditions  ;  on  one  side,  that  there 
exists  a  certain  public  spirit,  and  on  the  other, 
that  a  knowledge  of  the  wants  of  the  unfortunate, 
and  of  the  proper  means  to  relieve  them,  is  diffused 
through  society,  and  has  fixed  the  general  atten- 
tion. The  first  of  these  two  conditions  supposes, 
in  its  turn,  the  existence  of  institutions  of  a  gen- 
erous character,  knowledge  generally  diffused, 
and  freely  circulating  ;  and  the  influence  of  a 
wise  political  liberty  and  good  public  morals. 

What  better  means  are  there  of  securing  the 
second  condition  supposed,  next  to  the  influences 
of  a  religious  spirit,  than  the  presence  of  a  number 


188  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

of  persons,  in  the  midst  of  society,  who  maintain 
continual  communication  with  the  poor  ?  It  is 
evident  how  many  advantages  there  are  in  the 
visitors  of  the  poor  being  taken  from  the  midst  of 
society.  They  are  precious  centres  of  heat  and 
light  in  the  midst  of  the  world.  It  is  by  them 
that  the  world  is  initiated  into  the  secret  of  the 
sufferings  which  weigh  upon  the  poor  ;  that  its 
distracted  attention  is  reminded  of  the  claims  of 
charity,  amidst  the  tumult  of  business,  and  the 
intoxication  of  pleasure. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

OF    THE    COOPERATION    OF    YOUNG    PEOPLE   IN    THE 
ESTABLISHMENTS  OF    HUMANITY. 

In  all  the  establishments  formed  for  private 
industry,  the  mature  have  naturally  the  good 
sense  to  associate  the  young  with  them  as  useful 
auxiliaries.  Fathers  have  the  wise  precaution  to 
prepare  their  sons,  by  gradual  apprenticeship,  to 
the  exercise  of  the  professions  they  are  one  day 
to  pursue.  The  rostrum  prepares  advocates  for 
the  bar.  I  see  the  notary  surrounded  by  his 
young  clerks,  the  merchant  and  the  manufacturer 
putting  in  motion  their  young  apprentices;  and, 
to  choose  an  example  more  in  relation  to  our  sub- 
ject, in  our  hospital,  the  most  experienced  physi- 
cians are  accompanied  by  pupils  who  prepare  and 
administer  their  prescriptions.  And  why  should 
not  the  noble  career  of  beneficence  also  have  its 
neophytes  ? 

What  precious  fruits  have  the  establishments  of 
humanity  already  reaped,  from  the  assistance  of 
females,  to  whom  Providence  has  seemed  to  con- 


190  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

fide  the  touching  mission  of  being  the  consoling 
angels  of  the  unfortunate  ;  and  whom  it  has  en- 
dowed with  such  exquisite  sensibility,  such  deli- 
cacy of  kindness,  such  tender  pity,  and  whose 
virtue  draws  from  religion  the  benefits  it  diffuses 
over  the  unhappy !  How  noble  it  would  be  10 
complete  the  work,  by  associating  in  it  that  hap- 
py age  which  is  so  rich  in  gifts  and  hopes  !  How 
useful  would  such  cooperation  be,  both  to  the 
unfortunate  and  to  the  young  people  themselves. 

The  number  of  men  who  enjoy  the  privilege  of 
being  able  to  devote  themselves  wholly  and  un- 
dividedly  to  the  noble  duties  of  benevolence,  is 
very  small.  This  privilege  belongs  only  to  those 
who  have  retired  from  business  and  have  acquired 
a  certain  independence  in  fortune.  But  at  an 
advanced  age  their  activity  often  fails,  their 
strength  is  almost  spent ;  and  if  their  wisdom  and 
long  experience  peculiarly  fit  them  for  giving  good 
directions,  for  laying  down  rules,  for  judging  and 
advising,  yet  they  cannot  themselves  always  go 
through  the  details,  and  survey  and  execute  what 
they  have  conceived.  Men  of  mature  age,  also, 
can  only  give  to  these  labors  a  few  moments  at  a 
time  ;  they  cannot  follow  their  inclinations  en- 
tirely ;    they  are   restrained  by  family    ties   and 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.      191 

imperious  duties.     The  young  can  supply  to  them 
these  inevitable  deficiencies  by  seeking  and  obtain- 
ing the  requisite  information.     They  can  explore 
the  vast  and  varied  field   of  human  woe.     They 
can  be  the   bearers   of  consoling  words,   and  the 
distributors  of  proper   succours.      Doubtless    the 
young  would  be  exposed,  by  their  very  simplicity, 
to  be   easily  deceived  by   the  artifices   too  often 
attempted  by  the  poor  ;    and  they  would  not  suffi- 
ciently observe,  in  the  distribution  of  charity,  that 
prudence  which    is    especially    demanded.       But 
these  inconveniences   are   not   to  be   feared,  when 
the  young  would  only  act  under  the  direction  of 
others  ;  and  we  find,  in  the  young,  certain  admira- 
ble things,  which  are  too  often  wanting  at  an  ad- 
vanced  age,  —  ardor    which    nothing    terrifies   or 
wearies ;     promptitude    to     seize    the    favorable 
moment  ;  vivacity  of  mind    which   discovers    and 
imagines  all  resources. 

We  are  sometimes  astonished  and  afflicted  at  a 
sort  of  languor  that  seems,  at  length,  to  paralyse 
certain  benevolent  administrations,  and  obstacles 
that  arise  from  the  mere  habits  of  routine.  The 
cooperation  of  the  young  would  give  new  life  to 
these  institutions  ;  would  extend  the  circle  of 
ideas,   and    give   an    opening  to    useful  improve- 


192  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

merits.  They  will  wake  up  those,  who,  with  the 
best  intention  in  the  world,  think  they  could  not 
do  better  than  they  have  done  or  are  already 
doing. 

If  the  exercise  of  true  beneficence  is  an  art  as 
difficult  in  the  choice  and  employment  of  means, 
as  it  is  immense  in  the  sphere  it  embraces,  why 
should  it  be  the  only  one  that  does  not  require 
training?  The  experience  of  a  whole  life  is  not 
too  much  to  teach  its  secrets  ;  for  it  cannot  be 
studied  in  books,  it  is  only  taught  by  practice. 
But  it  is  true  that,  in  practice,  errors  are  fatal. 
They  not  only  waste  the  resources  already  scarce- 
ly sufficient,  but  they  may  increase  the  evils  they 
propose  to  cure.  And  how  can  the  beginner 
escape  these  errors  ?  How  can  he  escape  the 
snares  which  disguised  immorality  holds  out  to 
him  under  the  sacred  garb  of  misfortune  ?  How 
can  he  escape  the  seductions  of  his  own  heart, 
whose  tenderness  prevents  reflection  and  examina- 
tion, whose  delicacy  repels  suspicion  ?  If  you 
grant  him  the  novitiate  we  solicit,  the  lessons  of 
experience  will  come  to  aid  the  warmth  of  zeal, 
and  the  first  essays  of  benevolence  will  be  sub- 
jected to  a  prudent  control.  Thus  our  young 
philanthropist  will  obtain,  without  doing  any  harm, 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.  193 

that  education  which  will  teach  him  the  different 
ways  in  which  human  miseries  may  be  efficiently 
remedied.  So  the  art  of  healing  forms  its  most 
skilful  pupils  near  the  bed  of  the  sick.  In  pro- 
portion as  the  ranks  of  those  virtuous  men,  of 
whom  our  charitable  administrations  are  composed, 
disappear,  numerous  candidates  will  present  them- 
selves to  take  their  places,  and  the  recollection  of 
the  devotedness  of  their  predecessors  will  inspire 
them  with  a  noble  ambition.  The  choice  which 
may  fall  upon  one  of  them,  calling  him  to  do  still 
more  good,  will  be  the  reward  of  the  good  he  has 
already  done.  He  will  no  longer  have  any  thing 
to  learn,  he  will  only  have  to  apply  what  he  has 
already  learnt. 

People  are  still  ignorant  of  how  much  is  to  be 
done,  to  remedy  the  evils  of  all  kinds,  which 
afflict  humanity  ;  or  at  least  if  they  see  how 
much  there  is  to  be  done,  they  despair  of  re- 
sources. This  is  an  error.  With  the  resources 
we  have,  we  might  provide  for  more  wants  than 
exist,  but  there  is  a  genius  for  beneficence  as 
well  as  for  the  other  arts.  This  genius  requires  a 
certain  youthfulness  of  heart,  a  certain  vivacity 
of  imagination,  and  an  enthusiasm  whose  warmth 
has  not  yet  been  cooled.  If  we  have  not  had 
17 


194  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

the  advantage  of  receiving  the  severe  and  fruit- 
ful education  of  adversity,  we  can  supply  this,  at 
least  in  part,  by  mingling  from  our  youth  in  that 
class  of  society  which  is  disinherited  by  fortune, 
and  by  uniting  ourselves  with  it  by  the  tie  of  a  gen- 
erous sympathy.  Thus  our  young  novices  will 
begin  by  being  the  confidants  of  grief,  in  order  to 
be  better  prepared  for  aiding  it  at  a  future  time. 

And  who  can  better  obtain  the  confidence  of 
the  afflicted  heart  ?  The  amiable  and  earnest 
benevolence,  the  warmth  of  heart  and  ingenuous- 
ness of  the  young,  encourage  openness  and  free- 
dom. In  their  words  there  is  a  charm  which 
captivates,  and  in  their  countenance  a  something 
which  inspires  hope.  People  love  to  tell  them 
what  they  dare  not  confess  to  a  graver  man  ;  they 
are  reanimated  by  their  presence.  The  benefit 
they  confer  is  given  with  more  grace,  and  the 
joy  they  feel  in  bestowing,  is  a  new  consolation  to 
the  receiver.  The  unfortunate  person  sees  in  a 
young  man,  a  protector  who  is  secured  to  him  for 
many  years  and  who  will  watch  over  the  whole 
course  of  his  destiny.  Children,  especially,  will 
become  attached  to  one,  whose  age  approaches 
their  own.  They  will  listen  to  his  counsels ; 
they  will  show  him  with  pride  the  fruits  of  their 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.      195 

labors  ;  they  will  say  to  themselves,  "  Here  is  one 
who  will  serve  me  as  a  guide,  and  support  my  mind 
through  every  period  of  my  life." 

What  a  touching  sight  is  that  of  a  young  man, 
in  the  midst  of  a  desolate  family !  Each  one 
presses  round  him,  and  recognises  in  him  a  mes- 
senger of  peace  and  love.  He  is  the  best  com- 
forter, who  is  most  easily  softened.  In  the  primi- 
tive church,  when  Christianity,  in  its  infancy, 
offered  to  the  astonished  world  the  first  example 
of  a  society  closely  united  by  the  bonds  of  char- 
ity, although  the  higher  functions  of  the  ministry 
were  reserved  for  old  men,  it  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  young,  that  were  deposited  the  gifts  destined 
for  the  suffering.  This  ministry  was  the  first  de- 
gree of  religious  consecration.  It  was  judged  the 
most  worthy  means  of  introducing  men  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  altar.  It  was  thought  that  as  true 
piety  is  the  most  fertile  source  of  beneficence, 
beneficence,  in  its  turn,  constantly  leads  the  heart 
to  pious  sentiments  ;  for,  the  two  great  command- 
ments are  like  to  one  another,  and  the  love  of 
God  is  blended  with  the  love  of  man.  Ah  !  may 
this  early  age,  to  which  it  has  been  given  to  know 
so  well  how  to  love,  understand  the  sentiment  in 
its  sublimest  and  purest  acceptation,  as  an  entirely 


196  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

celestial  emanation,  which  in  rising  to  the  Crea- 
tor, embraces  by  compassion  all  his  creatures,  and 
especially  the  unfortunate.  To  imitate  the  Su- 
preme Benefactor,  is  to  do  our  duty  to  him. 
Religion  collects  the  tears  of  pity  as  the  most 
acceptable  offering.  The  heart  that  is  full  of 
true  love,  can  be  satisfied  only  by  diffusing  and 
devoting  itself.  What  is  love  if  not  delight  in 
giving  ?  To  give,  is  in  itself  but  little ;  to  give 
is  not  charity  ;  but  charity  is  to  love  him  who 
suffers.  The  gift  is  only  the  effect,  or  the  sign, 
and  receives  all  its  value  from  the  sentiment  which 
inspires  it.  Let  us  offer  then  to  the  unfortunate, 
as  to  God  himself,  the  best  fruits  of  our  faculties, 
and  the  spring-time  of  our  life  ! 

To  open  to  young  people  the  career  of  an 
active  beneficence,  is  therefore  to  offer  them  the 
surest  initiation  into  a  deep  and  enlightened  piety  ; 
to  exercise  them  beforehand  in  the  other  vir- 
tues, and  inspire  a  taste  for  them  in  their  minds. 
The  emotions  which  they  will  experience,  in  this 
noble  apprenticeship,  will  leave  durable  impres- 
sions with  them  and  become  a  germ  of  good  ac- 
tions. Their  souls  will  be  kept  in  habits  of  pure 
sensibility,  and  will  be  guarded  against  the  influ- 
ence which  results  too  often  from  the  tumult  of 


COOPERATION  OV    YOUNG  PEOPLE.        197 

business  and  worldly  intercourse,  an  influence  which 
leads  to  the  cold  calculations  of  selfishness.  They 
will  be  naturally  preserved  from  the  numerous 
dangers  which  dissipation,  frivolity,  and  factitious 
pleasures,  sow  on  all  sides  under  the  steps  of  youth. 
They  will  better  enjoy  innocent  pleasures.  Their 
all-devouring  activity  will  find  proper  aliment,  and 
new  energy,  in  the  inward  satisfaction  which  arises 
from  the  remembrance  of  the  good  accomplished. 
They  will  hasten  with  ever-increasing  ardor  to  the 
labors  imposed  upon  them.  Talent  will  receive 
its  most  fruitful  inspirations  from  following  this  ca- 
reer ;  for  the  mind  is  always  enlightened  by  the 
holy  emotions  of  virtue.  Great  thoughts  spring 
from  noble  sentiments.  Thus  will  be  nourished, 
within  the  breast  of  youth,  that  generous  flame 
which  produces  courageous  acts,  and  the  master- 
pieces of  genius.  Thus  will  be  preserved  the 
inward  calm,  the  unalterable  peace,  which  render 
the  judgment  sound,  and  alone  procure  true  secu- 
rity. Oh,  how  beautiful  are  the  tears  which  flow 
over  a  face  brilliant  with  youth,  but  softened  by 
modesty,  timidity,  and  innocence  !  How  I  love  to 
see  a  youthful  heart  expand  with  the  hope  of  re- 
lieving the  woes  of  others  ;  discovering,  in  the 
morning  of  life,  its  sweetest  privilege,  the  pleas- 
17* 


198  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

ure  of  causing  happiness,  and  enjoying  the  Chris- 
tian triumph  which  is  obtained  by  self-sacrifice  for 
our  brethren,  and  glad  consecration  to  a  career, 
which  alone  can  satisfy  a  boundless  ambition,  with- 
out being  troubled  by  any  bitterness  ! 

What  is  more  just  and  perfect,  than  that  the  nat- 
ural exaltation  of  youth,  should  be  associated  with 
an  enthusiasm  for  doing  good.  This  exaltation, 
which  is  capable  of  so  many  things,  deceives  its 
own  instinct,  if  it  does  not  incline  us  to  be  useful  to 
others.  Every  thing  which  nature  has  decorated 
with  bright  colors  and  graceful  forms,  announces 
and  promises  good ;  and  it  is  always  adorned 
with  youth  when  it  brings  to  human  beings  the 
gifts  that  it  destines  for  their  nourishment.  Let 
us  understand  the  alliance  expressed  by  this  sym- 
bol. Let  the  young  who  are  the  ornament  of  the 
state,  be  also  its  honor,  and  the  heralds  of  benefi- 
cence to  all  men.  Excuse  me  if  I  pause  with  a 
kind  of  delight  upon  this  image,  and  return  to  it 
incessantly,  for  it  charms  and  captivates  me.  The 
rising  of  the  dawn  is  less  enchanting  to  my  eyes 
than  celestial  charity  appearing  upon  earth  in  the 
form  of  youth. 

Our  public  institutions  have  opened  all  kinds  of 
schools  for  the  instruction  of  the  young.     They  are 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.      199 

established  for  belles-lettres,  for  the  different  branch- 
es of  science,  for  the  liberal  arts,  and  for  mechanical 
industry.  But  there  is  still  another  great  school, 
not  less  fertile  in  positive  knowledge,  and  not  less 
necessary  to  this  age,  where  we  may  learn  to  know 
misfortune,  and  to  study  human  destiny.  The 
young  man  whom  I  introduce  into  this  new  school, 
which  is  entirely  practical  and  experimental,  will 
discover  many  things  which  he  might  not  have 
learned,  or  at  least  not  so  well  have  learned,  in  any 
book.  He  will  see,  with  his  own  eyes,  what  pro- 
found and  innumerable  sufferings  are  hidden  under 
the  brilliant  mantle  which  the  world  seems  to  un- 
fold before  the  eyes  of  the  superficial  beholder,  and 
these  sufferings  will  reveal  to  him  the  designs  of 
Providence,  who  wills  that  man's  passage  over  the 
earth  shall  be  a  laborious  pilgrimage.  He  will  per- 
ceive how  great  is  the  anguish  of  pain,  what  aids 
religion  and  virtue  offer  against  despair,  and  how 
sterile  and  impotent,  in  this  terrible  crisis  of  our  na- 
ture, are  all  consolations,  not  drawn  from  this  source. 
He  will  have  opportunity  to  admire  patience  and  re- 
signation in  their  noblest  manifestations,  exercised 
in  desolation,  abandonment,  and  obscurity.  He  will 
often  meet,  under  the  rags  of  misery,  the  truest, 
most   spontaneous   virtues,    virtues   more  difficult 


200  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

of  attainment  than  those  which  are  celebrated  by 
the  praises  of  the  world.  He  will  find  out  secrets 
of  the  human  heart,  and  moral  truths,  unknown  by- 
speculative  philosophers.  He  will  become  convinc- 
ed of  the  end  to  which  the  disorders  of  vice  conduct, 
of  the  dangers  to  which  levity  and  imprudence 
expose  men,  and  will  learn  the  sad  consequences 
which  ignorance  and  prejudice  bring  in  their  train. 
He  will  honor  labor  more,  and  will  feel  all  the 
value  of  economy  and  good  order,  which  alone 
preserve  the  fruits  of  labor.  The  emotion  which 
his  heart  will  feel  at  the  sight  of  so  many  different 
troubles,  and  the  sympathy  which  will  associate 
him  with  those  who  bear  them,  will  reveal  to  him 
the  strength  of  the  bond  of  that  sacred  brotherhood 
which  unites  all  human  creatures  ;  and  in  this  sin- 
gle sentiment,  he  will  possess,  as  it  were,  the 
torch  which  enlightens  the  whole  region  of  mo- 
rality. 

But  will  it  be  said  that  a  young  man  cannot  give 
himself  up  to  the  exercise  of  private  beneficence  ? 
This  may  be  ;  but  by  associating  this  young  man 
in  a  humane  establishment,  you  will  offer  him  an 
occasion  which  perhaps  might  have  been  wanting 
to  him,  or  which  he  might  perhaps  have  neglected 
to  seize.     Besides,  most  young  people  can  carry 


/ 


COOPERATION    OF    YOUNG    PEOPLE.  201 

individually,  but  very  limited  contributions,  as 
pecuniary  resources,  to  the  unfortunate.  You  will 
offer  to  them  a  means  of  joining  to  these  a  multitude 
of  active  services,  of  a  kind  for  which  young  people 
are  so  well  adapted,  and  which  form  the  most  im- 
portant and  fruitful  branch  of  enlightened  benefi- 
cence. It  will  not  be  necessary  for  them  to  be  rich 
themselves,  in  order  to  serve  as  channels  of  commu- 
nication between  those  who  give  and  those  who 
receive.  Private  beneficence  can  only  embrace  cer- 
tain kinds  of  misfortune  in  its  sphere.  But,  as  an 
organ  and  minister  of  an  establishment  of  charity,  a 
young  man  will  go  over,  on  a  much  larger  scale,  the 
extensive  and  varied  field  of  human  misfortunes. 
And  this  is  not  all.  By  himself,  he  could  only 
make  isolated  attempts ;  but,  initiated  into  the 
application  of  a  general  system  of  philanthropic 
daministration,  he  will  gather  up  all  the  knowledge 
which  has  been  accumulated  by  a  long  experience. 
He  will  not  limit  his  observations  to  his  own 
action  ;  he  will  see  those  act  who  are  already  per- 
fected in  this  great  art.  How  many  useful  notions 
he  will  collect  even  unexpectedly  in  the  employ- 
ment confided  to  him  !  He  will  penetrate  into 
workshops  and  cottages  ;  he  will  become  acquaint- 
ed with   the  details  of  manufacturing  and  agricul- 


202  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

tural  industry,  of  which,  without  this  circumstance, 
he  might  have  been  always  ignorant.  He  will 
collect  precious  facts  about  domestic  economy,  and 
he  will  even  have  an  opportunity  of  acquiring 
insensibly  some  ideas  concerning  the  physical 
education  of  children,  ordaining  diseases,  and  the 
most  common  accidents.  He  will  learn  their  caus- 
es and  the  most  simple  means  of  remedying  them. 
In  his  relations  with  the  different  classes  of  society, 
he  will  observe  their  manners,  and  thus  acquire 
the  knowledge  of  men.  He  will  study  characters, 
and  exercise  himself  in  the  art  of  persuading. 
He  will  learn  to  appreciate  the  means  of  exerting 
the  only  useful  and  honorable  influences;  I  mean 
those  which  rest  upon  confidence.  If  he  is  af- 
terwards called  to  a  public  career,  he  will  find 
a  multitude  of  useful  elements  in  his  numerous 
recollections,  of  which  he  will  be  able  to  make  use, 
either  as  an  officer  of  government  or  as  a  discusser 
of  the  great  interests  of  legislation,  and  of  society. 
I  think  if  I  had  to  choose  a  governor  for  a  prov- 
ince, I  should  like  to  meet  with  an  individual  who 
had  received  such  an  education. 

But  one  of  the  greatest  advantages  which  this 
association  would  offer  to  young  people,  would  be 
the  putting  them  in  immediate  and  habitual  relation 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.      203 

with  the  respectable  men  who  preside  over  the  es- 
tablishments of  beneficence.  Such  an  intercourse 
would  elevate  their  souls,  would  cultivate  their  rea- 
son, extend  their  ideas,  and  inspire  them  constant- 
ly with  the  need  of  their  own  esteem,  and  show 
them  the  end  towards  which  they  are  worthy  to 
direct  their  ambition.  What  examples  will  be 
displayed  before  their  eyes  !  what  instructions  will 
be  offered  them  !  what  guides  and  supports  are 
prepared  for  them  in  time  of  need  !  What  emula- 
tion will  be  excited  in  their  hearts !  What  a 
recompense  they  will  have  in  the  approbation  of 
these  good  men  !  What  dignity  will  be  imparted 
to  their  manners,  and  what  a  serious  direction  given 
to  their  lives !  How  should  we  love  to  see  those 
venerable  men,  who  watch  over  the  destiny  of  the 
poor  man,  surrounded,  in  the  functions  of  this 
touching  service,  by  a  troop  of  young  disciples 
whose  eyes  were  fixed  upon  them,  eager  to  assist 
thorn. 

The  fundamental  rule  which  should  separate  the 
functions  peculiar  to  administrators,  from  the  co- 
operation confided  to  their  assistants  is,  in  always 
reserving  the  direction  and  decision  to  the  former, 
and  committing  the  execution  only  to  the  latter. 


204  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

These  young  auxiliaries  might  be  arranged  in 
several  classes  or  degrees,  and  in  each,  they  might 
receive  different  kinds  of  offices. 

The  employment  which  ought  to  precede  all 
others,  consists  of  the  numerous  investigations 
which  humane  establishments  need,  in  order  to 
form  a  body  of  preliminary  information,  Our 
young  explorers  should  be  sent  out  to  make  obser- 
vations. They  should  be  called  on  to  collect  and 
state  facts,  taking  care  to  bring  together  all  the  cir- 
cumstances. It  would  be  well  to  have  two  young 
people  charged,  at  the  same  time,  with  obtaining 
the  desired  information.  This  association  would  be- 
come an  occasion  of  holy  friendship,  and  the  charm 
of  these  friendships  would  increase  their  zeal,  by 
offering  them  a  sweet  reward  in  their  labors. 

A  second  kind  of  office  should  have  for  its  ob- 
ject that  detailed  superintendence  which  consists 
in  assuring  themselves  that  what  has  been  prescrib- 
ed has  been  faithfully  accomplished,  and  in  order 
to  acquit  themselves  of  this  office,  it  would  be  ne- 
cessary for  them  to  be  thoroughly  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  the  orders  given,  of  the  end  to  which  they 
tend,  and  the  conditions  they  suppose.  We  con- 
ceive that  these  cares  would  give  to  our  young 
people   happy  habits  of  regularity  and  precision. 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.     205 

They  would  themselves  appreciate  the  effects  and 
results  of  the  concerted  distributions. 

The  superintendents,  however,  should  not  on  this 
account  cease  to  make  their  own  visits,  to  inquire 
for  themselves,  and  assure  themselves  of  every 
thing.  Nothing  can  dispense  with  an  administra- 
tor's seeing  with  his  own  eyes.  But  he  cannot  be 
every  where.  He  can  therefore  be  aided,  and  the 
investigation  may  become  more  extensive  and  more 
frequent.  The  administrator,  in  his  visits,  may  be 
accompanied  by  some  young  pupils,  who  will  learn, 
from  his  example,  the  difficult  art  of  observing 
carefully. 

As  yet  our  novices  have  only  been  called  to  see  ; 
and  it  is  indeed  needful  to  begin  thus  in  every 
thing.  Facts  are  the  elements  of  science  ;  afterwards 
they  might  begin  to  act,  or  at  least  participate  in  ac- 
tion. They  should  act  under  the  eyes  of  the  ad- 
ministrator, following  the  instructions  received 
from  him  ;  cooperating  in  that  part  of  the  execu- 
tion which  requires  most  activity  and  promptitude, 
but  which  is  the  least  discretionary  :  their  labor 
would  resemble  that  of  apprentices  in  workshops ; 
they  would  be  regulated  by  a  model,  and  finish 
what  had  been  traced  out  by  others. 
18 


206  VISITOR    OF    THE    POOR. 

Thus  are  our  philanthropic  pupils  in  motion, 
in  the  sphere  which  an  establishment  embraces. 
They  receive,  carry,  and  bring  back  knowledge 
and  relief;  afterwards  they  will  be  called  to  the 
centre  of  action,  and  find  other  employments, 
always  without  disturbing  the  economy  and  unity 
of  the  administrative  system.  Some  will  make 
reports,  others  keep  records,  or  be  charged  with 
a  part  of  the  correspondence,  and  they  may  thus 
diminish  the  expenses  of  secretaryship.  Some  can 
examine  memorials,  and  take  notes  or  extracts. 
Those  who  have  occasion  to  travel,  can  visit,  in 
the  cities  where  they  stay,  analogous  establish- 
ments, and  observe  the  methods  and  proceedings 
which  are  adopted  in  them.  Each  of  these  youth- 
ful cooperators  may  be  put  to  such  or  such  a  ser- 
vice, according  to  the  direction  which  his  studies 
have  followed,  or  to  the  profession  he  has  em- 
braced. Thus  the  commission-merchant  may  be 
usefully  employed  in  purchases,  and  the  manu- 
facturer in  making  articles  of  furniture.  Young 
advocates  might  be  sent  to  visit  prisons,  and  those 
who  continue  to  cultivate  sciences  and  letters 
might  become  superintendents  of  schools. 

If  some  persons,  who  are  accustomed  to  rank 
among  yain  theories  whatever  they  have  not  seen 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.      20? 

executed,  and  to  treat  as  beautiful  dreams  all 
views  for  the  public  good ;  and  discouraged  by  the 
sight  of  the  world  in  which  they  live,  raise  doubts 
about  the  possibility  of  realizing  the  plans  which 
have  just  been  proposed,  a  positive  experience  is 
their  answer.  For  some  years  a  generous  emula- 
tion has  been  developed  in  the  French  youth,  and 
several  honorable  associations  have  been  formed. 
Since  the  creation  of  the  saving's  bank  at  Paris, 
we  have  seen  a  great  number  of  clerks  of  the 
banking-houses  of  the  capital,  come  and  offer 
themselves  voluntarily,  with  laudable  eagerness, 
for  book-keepers ;  joyfully  sacrificing  their  Sun- 
day, their  only  leisure  day,  for  this  fatiguing  toil. 
In  several  of  our  associations  for  the  public  good, 
we  count  young  people  in  the  number  of  sub- 
scribers, assiduous  at  meetings,  and  ready  to  fulfill 
all  the  commissions  given  them.  Some  young 
people  have  received  at  Paris  the  office  of  in- 
spectors of  free  schools,  and  have  put  forth  such 
zeal  in  the  cause,  that  the  schools  under  their 
superintendence  have  made  rapid  and  unlooked- 
for  progress.  Some  have  been  called  to  the 
office  of  dispensing  charity,  and  the  poor  have 
found  in  them  friends  full  of  ardor  for  their  inter- 
ests.    We  see  some  young  people  who  visit  the 


208  VISITOR  OF  THE  POOR. 

hospitals  of  Paris,  and  sit  down  at  the  pillows  of 
the  sick,  and  read  to  them,  or  talk  to  them  edify- 
ingly.  We  have  seen  young  people  visit  the 
Hotel  de  Dieu  of  Lyons,  and  render  a  kind  of 
care,  which  requires  the  conquest  of  much  natu- 
ral repugnance.  An  estimable  society  of  young 
men  has  been  occupied  for  three  years,  at  Paris, 
with  placing  orphans  in  apprenticeship,  and  giving 
no  less  care  to  their  moral  education  than  to  their 
industry.  There  is  nothing  good  which  we  may 
not  expect  from  the  generosity  of  this  age,  and  the 
enthusiasm  which  is  peculiar  to  it.  Let  a  voice 
be  raised  and  say,  "  Come,  you  who  are  the  object 
of  so  many  affections,  the  source  of  so  many 
hopes,  whom  we  see  disputing  with  so  much 
ardor  for  academical  honors,  and  who  leap  for  joy 
at  receiving  testimonies  of  satisfaction  from  your 
guardians,  and  the  encouragement  of  your  fami- 
lies ;  you,  whose  young  hearts  beat  anew,  when 
noble  actions  are  mentioned  to  you  ;  who,  in  your 
literary  essays,  are  happy  in  finding  an  occasion  to 
express  the  noblest  sentiments ;  you,  whose  souls, 
yet  fresh  and  pure,  are  eager  for  generous  emo- 
tions ;  come,  we  offer  you  celestial  joys,  inex- 
haustible pleasures,  and  a  glory  so  much  the  more 
true,  as  it  is  free  from  the  seductions  of  vanity. 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.     209 

You,  who  are  happy,  upon  whom  every  thing  in 
the  world  and  in  nature  smiles,  come  and  learn  to 
compassionate  and  relieve  ;  come  and  be  the  friends 
of  misfortune,  assist  those  good  administrators 
whom  you  venerate,  and  be  the  heralds  of  their 
beneficence.  Come  and  amass  such  treasures  for 
the  rest  of  your  life  as  fortune  cannot  take  from 
you.  The  sanctuary,  where  charity  dwells  to 
console  human  misery,  is  open  to  you  ;  come  and 
carry  thither  your  first  offerings  ;  come  and  be  with 
us,  second  us,  and  begin  to  receive  our  inheritance 
in  advance.  Prepare  to  do  one  day  better  than 
we  have  done ;  and  may  Heaven,  as  a  reward  for 
your  labors,  one  day  give  you  sons  who  resemble 
yourselves." 

What  do  I  say  ?  It  is  not  only  in  the  heart  of 
young  men  that  has  resounded  the  voice  of  the 
unfortunate  imploring  pity ;  it  is  not  only  from 
their  hands  that  generous  aid  has  been  received. 
The  genius  of  charity  has  raised  up  young  girls, 
as  yet  inexperienced  and  strangers  to  the  world, 
to  the  dignity  of  this  noble  ministry,  which  adopts 
and  relieves  the  unfortunate.  Can  we  see,  with- 
out admiration,  nearly  two  thousand  young  girls 
put  into  a  common  stock  their  little  savings  of 
thirty  cents  per  month,  to  adopt  poor  children  of 


210  Visitor  of  the  poor* 

their  own  age  and  sex,  whom  they  place  in  ap- 
prenticeship, and  to  whom  they  furnish  necessary 
articles,  which  each  of  them  has  the  right  of  pre- 
senting, when  they  visit  them  ?  *  Can  we  see, 
without  deep  emotion,  another  very  numerous 
society  of  young  ladies,  who  form  also  by  their 
subscriptions,  under  the  eyes  and  direction,  and  with 
the  aid  of  their  parents,  an  annual  fund  for  pro- 
curing clothing  and  garments  for  poor  old  men ; 
and  who  go,  guided  by  their  mothers,  to  these 
unfortunate  persons,  take  an  account  of  the  situa- 
tion in  which  they  have  found  them,  explain  their 
wants,  and  take  charge  of  them  ?  f  Touching 
beginnings  which  promise  a  long  career  of  good 
actions  !  Affecting  homage  offered  to  those  who 
are  ready  to  quit  life  and  have  felt  its  trials,  by 
those  whose  hearts  are  open  to  all  affections,  and 
who,  without  having  yet  experienced  misfortune, 

#  The  Society  of  the  Young  Economists.  The  example 
seems  to  have  been  set  by  the  city  of  Lyons,  where  a 
society  of  this  kind  comprises  nearly  all  the  young  ladies 
of  the  city. 

t  The  Society  of  Children  for  the  Care  of  Old  Men.  A 
venerable  lady,  a  living  model  of  active,  enlightened,  indul- 
gent charity,  has  essentially  contributed  to  this  interesting 
institution,  of  which  we  know  no  other  example. 


COOPERATION  OF  YOUNG  PEOPLE.      211 

already  know  so  well  how  to  compassionate  it ! 
It  might  be  called  a  chaplet  of  flowers  laid  upon 
the  altar  of  Beneficence.  It  is  thus  that  the 
sacred  sentiment  of  humanity  brings  together  all 
ages  and  all  conditions,  and  tends  to  form  but  one 
single  chain  of  humanity.  Let  us  meditate  upon 
these  examples  ;  they  teach  us  where  we  shall 
find  amiable  candidates  for  visitors  of  the  poor. 


THE   END. 


fiYOU 
6^ 


